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THE    CELEBRATED 
MADAME  CAMPAN 


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-"^^au/a^/^t^  (^€ly99^^^ 


THE  CELEBRATED 
MADAME  CAMPAN 


LADY-IN-WAITING  TO  MARIE  ANTOINETTE 
AND  CONFIDANTE  OF  NAPOLEON 


BY 

VIOLETTE  M.  MONTAGU 

AUTHOR   OF 

"SOPHIE  DAWES,   QUEEN   OF  CHANTILLY " 

"THE    ABb£    EDGEWORTH    AND    HIS    FRIENDS" 

EUGfeNE  DE  BEAUHARNAIS,  THE  ADOPTED  SON  OF  NAPOLEON 

ETC.   ETC. 


PHILADELPHIA 

J.    B.    LIPPINCOTT    COMPANY 

LONDON:    EVELEIGH    NASH 
1914 


>  •  •        • 


TO 

MY   MOTHER 

TO  WHOM   I  OWE  THIS  BOOK 


_  «  a  /r><f~»rf"kir"^r-* 


PREFACE 

'Tis  but  a  mediocre  author  who  needs  to  apologize  for 
his  sins  of  omission  or  commission  before  the  Argus- 
eyed  critic  has  had  time  to  rend  the  ewe-lamb  to 
pieces  ;  the  apologies,  like  the  tears  in  Heine's  im- 
mortal Lyrisches  Intermezzo^  usually  come  after  the 
frail  bark  has  been  launched  upon  the  sea  of  Literature 
to  be  wrecked  on  the  sharp  rocks  of  Criticism,  become 
becalmed  in  the  Arctic  Circle  of  Oblivion,  or  per- 
chance sail  with  the  chosen  few  into  the  peaceful 
harbour  of  that  ultima  thule — Popularity. 

I  fear  it  will  be  said  that  I  have  taken  strange 
liberties  with  Mme  Campans  Memoirs,  from  which  the 
first  part  of  my  book  was  gleaned.  Why  are  those 
interesting  memoirs  so  little  read  in  England  nowa- 
days ?  Perhaps  because  they  fill  three  volumes — who, 
in  this  age  of  hurry,  takes  the  trouble  or  has  the 
leisure  to  read  anything  so  lengthy  ? — perhaps  because 
they  are  written  in  a  somewhat  stilted  manner,  lack 
sequence,  and  contain  too  many  repetitions  of  the 
same  fact,  and  perhaps  because  the  authoress  mentions 
several  persons  who  are  mere  names  to  the  general 
public,  and  concludes  just  at  the  most  poignant  period 
of  the  Revolution.  And  yet  the  story  of  her  own 
adventures  during  the  Reign  of  Terror  is  full  of 
exciting  situations.  In  Part  I  :  At  the  Court  of 
Marie  Antoinette,  I  have  been  careful  to  omit  none 
of  the  chief  events  mentioned  by  the  queen's  waiting- 
woman,    I    have    furnished    explanatory   notes    and 

vii 


/  PREFACE 

biographies  of  the  personages  who  flit  across  the  stage, 
and  have  endeavoured  to  keep  to  the  original  diapason. 

The  second  part  of  my  book  :  The  Governess  of 
the  Bonapartes,  is  taken  from  contemporary  memoirs, 
and  contains  extracts  from  Mme  Campan's  corre- 
spondence with  her  favourite  pupil,  Hortense  de 
Beauharnais,  the  wife  of  Louis  Bonaparte,  and  the 
mother  of  Napoleon  iii,  which  letters  have  never  been 
translated  into  English ;  they  throw  many  side-lights 
upon  the  Emperor's  home-life,  for  Mme  Campan, 
both  as  waiting-woman  to  Marie  Antoinette,  and  as 
governess  to  the  Imperial  family,  enjoyed  the  con- 
fidence of  her  masters,  and  heard  many  secrets  which 
led  to  the  undoing  of  more  than  one  of  those  masters. 

So  great  was  Mme  Campan's  fame,  not  only  in 
Europe  but  also  in  America  and  India,  as  the 
governess  of  Pauline,  Caroline,  and  Charlotte  Bona 
parte  and  Hortense,  Stephanie,  and  Emilie  de 
Beauharnais,  and  of  many  of  the  beautiful  and  witty 
women  who  adorned  Napoleon's  Court — which  Mme 
Campan  had  helped  to  form — that  when  that  great 
Emperor  organized  the  first  Imperial  Educational 
Establishment  of  the  Legion  of  Honour  at  Ecouen, 
he  gave  Mme  Campan  the  post  of  directress. 

My  intention  in  writing  this  book  has  been  to 
present  a  faithful  picture  of  the  France  of  the  CEil 
de  Boeuf  2JiA  of  that  greater  France  when  no  educa- 
tion was  considered  complete  without  a  sojourn  in 
Paris,  that  Parnassus  whither  Napoleon,  the  master- 
mind, invited  the  world's  most  gifted  artists,  musicians, 
litUrateurs,  scientists,  and  thinkers. 

VIOLETTE  M.  MONTAGU. 
Paris,  19 14. 

viii 


CONTENTS 


PART  I 

AT  THE  COURT  OF  MARIE  ANTOINETTE 

CHAPTER  I 

PAGB 

Birth  of  Henriette  Genest — The  origin  of  the  Genest  family — 
Education  of  the  future  lectrice — Henriette  accepts  her  first 
situation — She  makes  the  acquaintance  of  the  Roi  Bien-Aimi 
— Mesdames  de  France    ......         I 

CHAPTER  II 

Louis  XV  surprises  his  daughters'  lectrice  in  the  act  of  making 
"  cheeses  " — Madame  Louise  takes  the  veil — Arrival  in  France 
of  Marie  Antoinette — Henriette  loses  her  heart — Mesdames 
try  to  find  a  husband  for  their  lectrice — The  origin  of  the 
Campan  family — Marie  Antoinette  makes  Henriette  Campan 
her  waiting-woman — Mesdames'  hatred  for  Marie  Antoinette — 
Mesdames  go  to  Bellevue,  and  Henriette  leaves  their  service— 
The  Court  is  jealous  of  Mme  Campan's  influence  .  .      26 

CHAPTER  III 

The  duties  of  the  queen's  waiting-woman — A  day  at  Versailles — 
Marie  Antoinette  adopts  a  little  peasant-boy — Birth  of  the 
queen's  eldest  child — Mesmer  pays  a  visit  to  Paris — M.  Campan 
tries  one  of  the  famous  physician's  cures — Birth  of  the  first 
Dauphin  —  Indiscreet  well-wishers  —  The  young  mother  re- 
ceives a  deputation  from  the  ladies  of  the  Paris  markets — The 
comtes  d'Haga  and  du  Nord  pay  a  visit  to  Versailles — 
Madame  Royale  goes  to  see  her  great-aunt  Louise       .  .      46 

CHAPTER  IV 

The  affair  of  the  queen's  necklace — Birth  of  Mme  Campan's  only 
child — Death  of  Madame  Louise — Unpopularity  of  Marie 
Antoinette — Death  of  the  first  Dauphin  .  .  .66 

ix 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  V 

PAGE 

The  queen  is  persuaded  to  take  an  interest  in  politics — The  first 
stroke  of  midnight — Versailles  receives  a  visit  from  the  populace 
— The  queen  prepares  to  go  to  the  Tuileries — Her  friends  begin 
to  leave  her — "  Balthasar's  Feast " — Versailles  is  visited  for  the 
second  time  and  the  palace  invaded — The  royal  family  are 
escorted  to  Paris — The  queen  confides  a  delicate  mission  to 
her  hairdresser     .  .  .  .  .  .  .86 

CHAPTER  VI 

The  royal  family  at  the  Tuileries — The  Favras  affair — The  comte 
d'Inisdal  endeavours  to  save  the  king — Rumours  are  circu- 
lated that  the  queen  is  about  to  be  poisoned — A  demonstra- 
tion of  affection — Mme  Campan  acts  as  the  king's  secretary — 
The  insurrection  at  Nancy — The  queen's  dislike  for  M.  de 
Lafayette — Mme  Campan  is  asked  to  make  a  sacrifice — Mes- 
dames  leave  France  .  .  .  .  .  .106 

CHAPTER  VII 

The  queen  makes  further  preparations  for  flight — M.  Campan /^r^? 
is  recommended  to  take  a  cure — Mme  Campan  bids  farewell 
to  her  mistress — She  hears  of  the  fiasco  of  Varennes — Marie 
Antoinette  sends  for  her  waiting-woman — She  returns  to  Paris 
and  again  receives  proofs  of  her  mistress's  confidence — She 
suffers  for  her  brother's  opinions — An  echo  of  an  old  affair — 
Mme  Campan  accepts  some  delicate  missions  .  .  .127 

CHAPTER  VIII 

Marie  Antoinette  changes  her  bedroom— Mme  Campan  provides 
the  king  with  some  strange  garments — Attempt  upon  the 
queen's  life — The  king's  imprudence — A  false  alarm— Petion 
pays  a  visit  to  the  Tuileries — The  palace  is  besieged — Mme 
Campan  has  a  narrow  escape — She  is  allowed  to  see  the 
royal  prisoners  at  the  Feuillants  .  .  .  .152 

CHAPTER  IX 

Doubts  are  expressed  concerning  the  decease  of  M.  Campan /<^r<? 
— A  dangerous  trust — Mme  Campan  goes  to  Versailles — The 
king's  female  armourer  threatens  to  turn  informant — Trial  and 
execution  of  Louis  xvi — Marie  Antoinette  follows  her  husband 
— An  order  is  issued  for  the  arrest  of  Mme  Campan  and  her 
sister — Mme  Auguie  commits  suicide — Mme  Campan  takes 
her  motherless  nieces  to  live  with  her     .  .  .  .179 

X 


CONTENTS 

PART  II 

THE  GOVERNESS  OF  THE  BONAPARTES 

CHAPTER  X 

PAGE 

Mme  Campan  realizes  her  vocation  and  opens  a  school — She  is 
persecuted  by  the  Directoire — Maman  Campan  earns  her  title 
and  the  affection  of  her  pupils — The  Seminary  at  Montagne 
de  BonAir  has  many  imitators — Hortense  and  Emilie  de 
Beauharnais,  Pauline  and  Caroline  Bonaparte  join  the  school — 
Pauline  marries  General  Leclerc — Napoleon  the  match-maker     191 

CHAPTER  XI 

A  prize-giving  at  Mme  Campan's  establishment — The  First  Consul 
assists  at  a  performance  of  Esther — The  prince  of  Orange 
creates  a  sensation  by  his  behaviour— Marriage  of  Caroline 
Bonaparte  to  Murat — Hortense  goes  to  dwell  at  the  Tuileries 
— Mme  Campan  nearly  incurs  the  First  Consul's  displeasure 
— Charlotte  Bonaparte  comes  to  Saint-Germain  .  .215 

CHAPTER  XII 

A  fashionable  boarding-school  in  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth 
century — Anglomania  and  the  anges  gardiens — Mme  Campan 
gives  Hortense  de  Beauharnais  good  advice  concerning  the 
choice  of  a  husband — Two  more  members  of  the  de  Beauharnais 
family  come  to  Saint-Germain — One  of  Mme  Campan's  former 
pupils  incurs  the  First  Consul's  displeasure — The  young  ladies 
fete  the  signing  of  the  Treaty  of  Luneville — Peace  is  concluded 
with  England — Hortense  is  betrothed  to  Louis  Bonaparte — 
General  Bonaparte  finds  a  wife  for  General  Davout — Felicite 
Fodoas  becomes  Mme  Savary    .....     236 

CHAPTER  XIII 

Mme  Campan  is  able  to  put  aside  "  a  crust  of  bread "  for  her 
old  age — Eliza  Monroe — The  young  ladies  of  Saint-Germain 
embroider  a  map  of  the  French  Republic — Hortense  de 
Beauharnais  marries  Louis  Bonaparte — The  Peace  of  Amiens 
is  signed — Mme  Moreau  again  arouses  the  First  Consul's 
wrath — Mme  Bonaparte  finds  a  husband  for  one  of  Mme 
Campan's  nieces — Birth  of  Hortense's  first  child — The  happy 
days  of  Mme  Campan — Another  of  her  nieces  marries — The 
Emperor  asks  Mme  Campan  to  help  him  form  his  Court — 
The  Emperor  and  the  Orphans  of  Austerlitz — Stephanie  de 
Beauharnais  is  married  to  the  hereditary  prince  of  Baden        .     263 

xi 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  XIV 

PAGE 

Extravagance  of  Napoleon's  cuisinilres — The  Emperor  deputes 
Mme  de  Lavalette  to  curb  Josephine's  passion  for  spending — 
Hortense  becomes  queen  of  Holland — Mme  Campan's  plans 
appear  likely  to  miscarry — She  is  appointed  directress  of  the 
Establishment  of  the  Legion  of  Honour  at  Ecouen — A  girls' 
boarding-school  during  the  Empire        ....     288 


CHAPTER  XV 

The  queen  of  Holland  pays  a  visit  to  Ecouen — Stf!phanie  Tascher 
de  La  Pagerie  marries  the  prince  d'Arenberg — The  Emperor's 
birthday  is  kept  by  the  Orphans  of  Austerlitz — Napoleon 
comes  to  inspect  his  protegees — The  queen  of  Holland  is 
made  patroness  of  Ecouen  —  Napoleon's  divorce  —  Lolotte 
Bonaparte  returns  to  France — Mme  Campan  meets  with  a 
serious  accident — Napoleon  and  Marie  Louise  visit  Ecouen — 
France  is  invaded  .  .  .  .  .  •    311 


CHAPTER  XVI 

Abdication  of  Napoleon — The  Emperor  Alexander  pays  a  visit  to 
Mme  Campan  and  makes  a  strange  confession — The  queen 
of  Holland  as  duchesse  de  Saini-Leu — Mme  Campan  bids 
farewell  to  Ecouen — She  suffers  for  Napoleon's  favours — She 
obtains  an  audience  with  the  duchesse  d'Angoul^me — 
Generosity  of  "Petite  Bonne" — The  Hundred  Days'  Wonder 
— The  Silver  Lilies  give  place  to  the  Golden  Bees — Napoleon 
finds  time  to  review  his  "  little  bees  " — Farewell  to  France — 
The  White  Terror  claims  its  victims      ....     335 

CHAPTER  XVII 

Mme  Campan  moves  house  for  the  last  time — Her  son  comes  to 
live  with  her — Her  last  pupils — Illness  and  death  of  her  only 
child— She  pays  a  visit  to  "Petite  Bonne"— The  finger  of 
Death  touches  her — One  of  Napoleon's  braves — She  lays  down 
her  burden  .......     355 


Index 


375 


Xll 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


Mme  Campan  .....     Frontispiece 


Marie  Antoinette  ..... 

From  an  Eighteenth-Century  Painting,  French  School. 

Madame  Royale      ..... 

From  a  Painting  by  Greuze. 

Madame  Adela'ide   ..... 

From  a  Painting  by  Nattier. 

Madame  Victoire    ..... 

From  a  Painting  by  Guiard. 

Madame  Elisabeth  ..... 

From  a  Painting  by  Le  Brun. 

Marie  Antoinette  and  her  Children     . 

From  a  Painting  by  Le  Brun. 

Hortense  de  Beauharnais 

From  a  Portrait  by  Francois  Gerard  at  the  Mus^e  Calvet,  Avignon 

Emilie  de  Beauharnais  (Comtesse  de  Lavalette) 
Caroline  Bonaparte,  with  her  daughter  Marie 

From  a  Painting  by  Le  Brun. 

Stephanie  de  Beauharnais 

From  a  Painting  by  Gerard. 

Pauline  Bonaparte  .... 

From  a  Painting  by  Le  F£;vre. 

Hortense  de  Beauharnais 

From  the  Painting  by  Regranet. 

xiii 


FACING  PAGE 
32 


64 
90 

160 

186 

196 

208 
224 

246 

256 

328 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 


Mme  Campan  .         .     Memoires  (3  volumes). 
J,  .         .    Le  dix-aout. 

„  .         .     De  r Education. 

„  .         .     Manuel  de  la  jeune  Mere. 

„  .         .     Conseils  aus  jeunes  Jilles. 

„  .         .     Lettres  de  deux  jeunes  amies. 

„  .        .     Theatre  d^ Education. 

„  .         .     Correspondance  inedite  avec  la  reine  Hortense 

(2  volumes). 

Journal  anecdotique  de  Mme  Campan. 

Memoires. 

Memoires  de  Mesdames. 

Di scours  sur  r education  des  filles. 

Dessous  de  princesses  et  marechales  de  V Empire, 

Les  Bonaparte  et  leurs  alliances. 


Dr.  Maigne  . 
General  Rapp 
montigny 

Fl^NELON  . 

Hector      Fleisch- 

MANN 
L^ONCE       DE      BRO- 

TONNE 
COMTE   FLEURY 

Casimir     Stryien- 

SKI 

Jean  Mejan   . 

Napoleon  et  la  reine  Hortense^  d'apres  le  journal  de  la  lectrice. 


Les  drames  de  FHistoire. 
Mesdames  de  France. 

Les  Filles  de  la  Legion  d'Honneur. 


M.  Mercier    . 

COMTE    E.    DE    BAR- 

thelemy 
Joseph  Turquan  . 


Madame  de  Lavalette. 
MesdaiJies  de  France. 


Stepha7iie  de  Beauharnais. 

Madame  la  duchesse  d'Angouleme. 

La  Generate  Bonaparte. 

n  Imperatrice  Josephine. 

La  JReifte  Hortense. 

Les  Sceiirs  de  Napoleon. 
LUCIEN  Gayet         .     I^es  Sosurs  de  Napoleon. 
M.  T.         .         .         .     Me'moires  historiques  de  Mesdames. 
Ernest  Hamel       .     Histoire  de  la  Revolution  Jrangaise. 
Fr^d^riC  Loliee   .     Talleyrand. 

XV 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 


J.  J.  Rousseau 

ViCOMTE  DE  REISET 

Albert  Savine 
Jean  Harmand 
W.  F.  VAN  Scheel- 

TEN 
COMTE      DE       LAVA- 

LETTE 
COMTESSE  DE 

BOIGNE 
Mlle  COCHELET      . 

Georgette    Du- 

crest 
Leonard  . 
Le  prince  Lucien  Bonaparte  etsafamille. 


Julie^  ou  la  nouvelle  Hiloise. 

Louise  cPEsparbes. 

Madame  Elisabeth  et  ses  Amies. 

Madame  de  Genlis. 

Mhnoires. 

Memoires. 

M^moires. 

Mimoires. 

Mdmoires  sur  Vlmpiratrice  Josdphine. 

Souvenirs. 


Th.  Jung 

Frederic  Masson  . 
Georges  Lenotre. 
C.  d'Arjuzon  . 
Mme  de  Blocque- 

VILLE 

Ren6  Savary. 
General  Victor    . 
M,  J.  Nollet  . 
Charles    Maurice 

Talleyrand 
Stephanie  Ory 
Paul  Marmottan  . 
Emmanuel       de 

Beaufond 

A.   L.   D'ECKMiJHL    . 

Mme  de  R^musat. 
Funck-Brentano  . 
Henri  Houssaye  . 

5) 

Henri    Welsch- 

inger 
Comte        Fedor 

golowkine 
George      Clinton 

Genet 
A.  Hilliard  Atte- 

ridge 
A.  Hilliard  Atte- 

ridge 


Memoires  de  Lucien  Bonaparte. 

La  M almaison  pendant  le  Consulat. 

Le  mariage  de  Josephine. 

Hortense  de  Beauharnais. 

Le  niardchal  Davout  racontd par  les  siens. 

Memoires. 

Mdmoires. 

Vie  du  7nareshal  Gerard, 

Mimoires. 

Soiries  d'Ecouen. 
Elisa  Bonaparte. 
Elisa  Bonaparte. 

L^  mardchal  Davout. 

Mimoires. 

Le  Collier  de  la  reine. 

La  Journie  d^une  grande  dame. 

i8ij  :  Les  Cent-Jours. 

Le  marichal  Ney^  1815. 

La  cour  et  le  r^gne  de  Paul  I. 

A  Family  Record  of  Nefs  Execution. 

Napoleon^s  Brothers. 

Marshal  Key :  the  Bravest  of  the  Brave. 

xvi 


THE 

CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

FIRST    PART 
AT  THE  COURT  OF  MARIE  ANTOINETTE 

CHAPTER    I 

Birth  of  Henriette  Genest — The  origin  of  the  Genest  family — Education 
of  the  future  lectrice — Henriette  accepts  her  first  situation — She 
makes  the  acquaintance  of  the  Rot  BUn-Aime — Mes dames  de 
France, 

**The  child  is  father  of  the  man,"  wrote  William 
Wordsworth,  the  English  Orpheus,  who  sang  so 
sweetly  of  sun-kissed  hills  and  sleepy  dales,  of 
whispering  brooklets  flowing  through  mossy  channels, 
of  Nature  in  all  her  phases.  He  himself  was  a  proof 
of  this  fact,  for  he  began  to  write  his  simple  rhymes 
at  the  early  age  of  nine  years. 

How  differently  children  amuse  themselves  !  One 
child  will  spend  hours  drilling  tin  soldiers ;  another 
will  perform  disastrous  surgical  operations  upon  his 
little  sister's  favourite  doll ;  this  one  is  content  to 
pick  out  tunes  on  the  piano  by  the  hour ;  that  one, 
with  a  taste  for  gardening,  will,  with  a  calm  disregard 
for  the  rules  of  agriculture,  plant  and  sow,  graft  and 
water,  and  occasionally  pull  up  the  plants  in  his  own 

A 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

garden — ^^kJ  :  acxncetimes  in  other  people's  too — to 
se*e'liow'  tfiey'  Wfe  ['getting  on."  Admiring  relatives 
6%<2'kimi  ^*  T3iis  chilcj  will  be  a  great  soldier  when  he 
grows  up ;  that  one  will  be  a  famous  surgeon  ;  this 
one  will  rival  Beethoven  ;  that  one  will  *  invent '  a 
new  rose."  But  what  shall  we  say  of  a  little  girl 
who,  at  twelve  years  of  age,  on  passing  in  the  street 
what  is  called  in  schoolroom  parlance  "  a  crocodile," 
feels  an  irrestible  longing  to  play  the  little  mother  to 
each  and  every  member  of  that  flock  ?  Such  a  child 
was  the  little  Henriette  Genest,  the  future  lectrice  of 
Mesdames  de  France,  the  waiting-woman  of  Marie 
Antoinette,  and  the  governess  of  the  Bonapartes,  the 
de  Beauharnais,  and  many  mardchales  and  duchesses 
— Bonaparte's  cuisinieres,  as  the  Royalists  termed  them 
during  the  Restoration.  Hers  was  an  eventful  life, 
less  lengthy  than  that  of  Mme  de  Genlis,  untouched 
by  the  breath  of  scandal,  a  life  which  began  in  the 
reign  of  Louis  xv  and  ended  during  that  of 
Louis  xviii ;  she  lived  amid  the  luxurious  Court  of 
Louis  le  Bien-Aimd,  regretted  the  follies  enacted  at 
the  Petit  Trianon,  wept  for  the  horrors  perpetrated 
during  the  Reign  of  Terror,  groaned  under  the 
oppressive  yoke  of  the  Directoire,  basked  in  the 
splendour  of  the  Empire,  and  died  after  witnessing 
the  pitiful  fiasco  of  the  return  of  the  Bourbons.  In 
Mme  Campan,  as  this  little  girl  afterwards  became, 
the  maternal  instinct  was  very  strongly  marked. 

Born  in  Paris,  October  6,  1752,  Henriette  Genest 
(or  Genet,  as  the  name  was  sometimes  pronounced 
in  those  days,  and  as  it  is  now  written  by  the 
American  descendants  of  Edmond  Charles  Genest, 
Mme   Campan's   brother)  was  the  eldest  child  of  a 

2 


HENRIETTE'S  BIRTH  AND  CHILDHOOD 

numerous  family  and,  as  such,  early  commenced  her 
career  as  a  little  mother.  As  she  herself  tells  us  in 
her  memoirs,  she  could  not  boast  of  either  rich  or 
noble  ancestry ;  her  father,  at  the  time  of  her  birth, 
held  a  fairly  lucrative  post  at  the  Foreign  Office, 
which  he  owed  to  his  talents  and  to  his  love  of  hard 
work.  The  story  of  the  marriage  of  little  Henriette's 
parents  is  a  pretty  echo  of  the  days  when  young 
people  were  content  to  begin  life  in  a  humble  way, 
possessed  of  far  fewer  of  this  world's  goods  than  any 
sane  person  would  dream  of  setting  up  house  with 
nowadays,  but  endowed  with  an  inexhaustible  store  of 
courage  with  which  to  face  the  ups  and  downs  of 
daily  existence. 

"On  aimait  de  mon  temps.     La  femme  qu'on  prenait 
Etait  pauvre  souvent,  mais  on  n'y  songeait  gu^re. 
La  mis^re  venait,  on  lui  faisait  la  guerre, 
On  luttait  vaillamment  .  .  . 

On  vivait,  mon  ami,  mais  on  vivait  sans  faste  .  .  . 
Le  mobilier  petit :  le  meuble  le  plus  beau 
N'avait  pas  cout^  cher,  ce  n'etait  qu'un  berceau."^ 

M.  Genest,  Henriette's  father,  was  the  eldest  child 
of  Edm6  Jacques  Genest,  who  for  twenty  years  was 
secretary  in  Spain  to  Cardinal  Alberoni,  the  prot6g6 
of  the  due  de  Vendome.  M.  Edm6  Genest  brought 
back  with  him  from  Spain  the  sum  of  200,000  livres, 
part  of  which  he  invested  in  landed  property,  while  he 
paid  80,000  livres  for  the  purchase  of  the  office  of 
head-crier  at  the  Ch^telet — a  good  investment,  for 
it  brought  him  in  an  income  of  something  like  15,000 
francs  a  year,  not  won  without  plenty  of  hard  work, 
however ;  but  his  experience  as  the  secretary  of 
Cardinal  Alberoni  had  probably  accustomed  him  to 

^  Leopold  Laluy^,  Les  Manages  (^autrefois. 

3 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

work ;  and  then,  as  we  shall  see  later,  Industry  must 
have  been  a  family  trait. 

Having  settled  his  future  to  his  complete  satisfac- 
tion, M.  Genest  began  to  look  about  for  a  wife. 
During  a  visit  to  a  relative  living  in  a  convent  in  the 
Faubourg  Saint-Germain,  M.  Genest  noticed  a  pretty 
young  girl  who,  like  himself,  frequently  paid  visits  to 
friends  or  relatives  living  in  the  same  religious  institu- 
tion. This  young  lady's  name  was  Jeanne  Louise  de 
B^arn  ;  she  belonged  to  an  old  French  family,  but 
she  had  had  to  endure  many  slights  and  much  con- 
tumely during  her  childhood  owing  to  the  fact  that 
her  father,  a  Catholic,  had  married  a  Protestant  at  a 
time  when  such  unions  were  considered  illegal  unless 
they  had  been  solemnized  in  both  churches.  M. 
Genest  having  asked  for  Jeanne  Louise's  hand  in 
marriage,  the  couple  were  married,  and  a  very  happy 
pair  they  were,  notwithstanding  M.  Genest's  rather 
narrow  mind.  They  had  many  children ;  only  two, 
however,  survived  infancy.  The  eldest  of  these  was 
Henriette's  father,  who  seems  to  have  been  a  most  re- 
markable and  gifted  creature  ;  at  four  years  of  age  he 
could  write  a  letter  unaided.  As  the  boy  showed 
great  elocutionary  gifts,  his  father  determined  that 
this  wonder  should  be  a  lawyer.  After  spending 
some  time  at  the  College  de  Navarre  in  Paris,  the 
boy  was  given  into  the  charge  of  some  Jesuit  priests 
with  whom  his  father  was  on  the  best  of  terms.  At 
fifteen  years  of  age,  young  Genest  carried  off  all  the 
first  prizes.  His  proud  father  then  sent  him  to  the 
University  of  Paris,  where  he  quickly  became 
acquainted  with  the  cleverest  students,  many  of 
whom  afterwards  became  members  of  the  Acad^mie 


HENRIETTE'S  FATHER 

franfaise,  and  these  friends  he  kept  all  his  life.  His 
studies  finished,  he  found  himself  face  to  face  with  the 
problem,  What  profession  should  he  choose?  His 
own  desire  was  to  enter  the  diplomatic  career ;  this 
wish,  however,  did  not  meet  with  his  father's  approval. 
And  when  he  informed  M.  Genest  pere  that  he  had 
followed  his  example  and  had  fallen  in  love  with  a 
well-born  but  dowerless  girl  with  many  impecunious 
relatives,  a  certain  Mile  Cardon,  his  father  called  him 
a  fool  and  swore  he  would  never  give  his  consent  to 
the  marriage. 

It  must  be  allowed  that  young  Genest's  life  after 
leaving  college  was  not  a  pleasant  one.  His  father, 
who  only  cared  for  two  things,  religious  ceremonies 
and  law,  wished  his  son  to  attend  Mass  daily,  go  to 
confession  two  or  three  times  a  month,  communicate 
every  month,  never  miss  High  Mass  or  Vespers,  and 
walk  with  him  in  all  the  religious  processions  which 
periodically  took  place  in  his  parish  church,  Saint- 
Sulpice.  At  home  the  youth  was  expected  to  retire 
to  the  drawing-room  and  repeat  the  rosary  after 
dinner;  but  this  he  did  with  such  reluctance  that 
painful  scenes  were  frequently  enacted  between  the 
priest-ridden  lawyer  and  the  student,  whose  one  wish 
was  to  be  allowed  to  go  to  his  room  and  con  his 
beloved  books  in  peace.  In  vain  the  father  tried  to 
mould  his  talented  son  to  his  own  pattern  :  severity, 
reproaches,  coldness,  had  no  effect.  So  painful  was 
the  poor  youth's  position  at  this  time  that  he 
determined,  if  he  ever  had  children  of  his  own,  never 
to  err  on  the  side  of  severity,  but  rather  seek  to  be 
their  friend  and  guide.  In  his  mother  alone  young 
Genest  found  affection  and  sympathy. 

5 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

M.  Genest  pere  then  began  to  treat  his  son  as  if 
he  were  unfit  to  consort  with  his  family.  He  was 
made  to  take  his  meals  by  himself,  or  else  to  sit 
through  a  chilly  family  reunion  amid  a  mournful 
silence  occasionally  relieved  by  a  dry  disquisition 
concerning  some  point  in  liturgy.  From  time  to 
time  his  father  would  call  him  into  his  study  and 
repeat  to  him  the  oft-told  tale  that,  unless  he  mended 
his  ways,  he  would  certainly  come  to  a  bad  end,  which 
fate  he  gave  him  two  chances  to  avoid — one,  by  enter- 
ing the  legal  profession  ;  the  other,  by  marrying  a  rich 
wife,  when  the  father  promised  to  obtain  for  him  the 
position  of  councillor  at  the  Chatelet.  But  with  the 
latter  scheme  the  youth  would  have  nothing  to  do  ; 
he  might  have  reminded  his  father  with  impunity  that 
he  had  not  sold  himself  to  a  rich  wife,  but  had  chosen 
his  companion  for  her  beauty  and  virtue.  The  first 
scheme,  after  due  consideration,  appeared  almost 
equally  distasteful,  for  it  meant  that,  while  finishing 
his  studies,  he  would  have  to  remain  under  the 
parental  roof-tree.  However,  the  young  prodigal  was 
not  without  sympathizers,  some  of  whom,  strange  to 
say,  were  M.  Genest's  most  devout  fellow-worshippers 
at  Saint-Sulpice.  The  youth,  encouraged  by  the 
knowledge  that  he  had  his  mother's  support,  held  out 
for  two  or  three  months,  during  which  time  he  was 
not  allowed  to  appear  in  the  drawing-room  and  had 
to  be  content  with  meals  snatched  when  the  irate 
head  of  the  house  was  absent.  After  several  weeks 
of  this  misery,  M.  Genest  pere  gave  his  consent  to 
his  son  going  to  Germany,  where  the  youth  proposed 
to  complete  his  education  and  acquire  the  German 
language.      On   bidding    his   son    farewell,    the   old 

6 


JOURNEYS  END  IN  LOVERS  MEETING 

gentleman  gave  him  his  blessing,  a  gold  watch,  1500 
livres  in  gold,  and  commands  never  again  to  appear 
in  his  presence.  The  night  before  the  prodigal 
started  on  his  journey,  his  mother  slipped  into  his 
room,  where  he  was  packing  his  few  belongings,  and, 
with  many  tears  and  exhortations  to  work  hard  and 
earn  his  father's  praise,  pressed  into  his  hand  a  little 
bundle  of  louis,  which  she,  with  infinite  trouble,  un- 
known to  her  husband,  had  managed  to  economize 
from  household  expenses.  She  promised  to  try  to 
soften  the  father's  heart  during  her  son's  absence. 
With  the  first  rays  of  dawn,  the  prodigal  left  his  home, 
and  set  out  on  the  long  journey  which  was  to  end  in 
lovers  meeting.  After  spending  two  or  three  years 
in  Germany,  young  Genest  went  over  to  England, 
where  he  learnt  the  language  and  completed  his 
studies.  It  is  probable  that  the  lovers  corresponded 
during  their  separation  ;  for  young  Genest,  on  attain- 
ing his  majority  five  years  after  his  departure  from 
France,  determined  to  return,  claim  his  bride,  and 
marry  without  his  father's  consent  if  he  could  not  do 
so  otherwise.  In  order  to  avoid  detection,  he  entered 
Paris  disguised  as  an  abbe.  Having  ascertained 
that  Mile  Cardon  had  not  changed  her  mind  during 
his  absence,  he  obtained  an  interview  with  his  mother 
in  a  friend's  house,  when  he  informed  her  of  his 
determination,  and  begged  her  not  to  mention  his 
return  to  his  father.  As  Fate  would  have  it,  the 
pretended  abbd  was  passing  in  a  cab  outside  the 
parental  door  when  the  vehicle  broke  down  just  at 
the  very  moment  when  the  unyielding  father  happened 
to  be  stepping  into  the  street.  On  relating  the 
accident  to  his  wife,  M.  Genest  remarked  that  the 

7 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

young  abbd  whom  he  had  seen  extracted  with  some 
difficulty  from  the  ruins  of  the  cab,  bore  such  an 
extraordinary  resemblance  to  his  son  that,  if  he  had 
not  received  the  very  evening  before  a  letter  from 
London,  he  would  have  sworn  that  the  prodigal  had 
returned  to  his  husks  and  swine.  On  learning  the 
truth,  his  wrath  burst  forth  afresh.  However,  after  a 
fortnight  spent  in  absorbing  subtle  doses  of  flattery 
and  persuasion  discreetly  administered  by  his  wife, 
household,  and  friends,  he  gave  his  consent  to  his 
son's  marriage  with  the  dowerless  beauty.  While 
matters  were  being  arranged,  young  Genest  busied 
himself  correcting  the  proofs  of  his  first  book — a 
volume  of  essays  upon  England,  the  result  of  his 
visit  to  that  country.  After  his  marriage,  which  took 
place  in  1751,  the  young  husband  invited  his  wife's 
parents,  her  brother,  who  had  just  been  called  to  the 
Bar,  and  two  younger  brothers  to  live  under  his  roof. 
His  wife's  parents  had  an  annuity  of  2000  livres{£Zd)y 
and  this,  including  what  the  young  husband  earned, 
had  to  feed  and  clothe  seven  people.  Luckily,  soon 
after  his  marriage,  M.  Genest's  essays  upon  England 
having  been  read  and  appreciated  at  Versailles,  he 
was  summoned  to  appear  at  Court  by  the  marshal  de 
Belle- Isle,  the  grandson  of  the  celebrated  Fouquet, 
and  himself  a  distinguished  diplomatist,  who  made 
him  interpreter  to  the  Admiralty  and  the  War  and 
the  Foreign  Offices.  He  now  had  clerks  to  work 
under  him,  and  had  it  not  been  for  the  burden  of 
his  wife's  brothers,  the  eldest  of  whom  he  tended 
through  a  long  and  fatal  illness  caused  by  excesses, 
and  the  two  youngest  whom  he  educated  and  placed 
in  the  French  army,  he  might  have  lived  very  com- 

8 


EDUCATION  OF  HENRIETTE  GENEST 

fortably  notwithstanding  the  facts  that  his  salary  was 
none  too  large,  and  that  the  family  cradle  was  filled 
every  year  with  a  new  little  occupant  which  had  to 
be  fed,  clothed,  and  educated — that  is  to  say,  if  it 
survived  the  Spartan  treatment  accorded  to  infants  in 
those  days. 

In  1762  M.  Genest  was  sent  to  England  on  a 
mission,  which  he  executed  so  entirely  to  the  satis- 
faction of  the  due  de  Choiseul,  that  ''  poor  imitation  of 
a  great  man  among  the  pigmies  of  the  reign  of  Louis 
XV,"  that  he  was  rewarded  with  the  post  of  chief 
clerk  at  the  Foreign  Office. 

Though  the  family  purse  was  often  nearly  empty, 
M.  Genest's  pride  forbade  him  to  appeal  to  his  father 
for  help ;  he  preferred  to  hamper  himself  with  one  of 
those  sops  to  Cerberus,  a  mortgage  for  50,000  ^cus. 
He  was  not  able  to  free  himself  from  this  burden 
until  his  father's  death  in  1767,  when,  having  paid  all 
his  debts,  he  found  himself  possessed  of  the  sum  of 
100,000  francs,  four  daughters,  and  a  son  still  in  the 
cradle. 

M.  Genest,  the  tenderest  of  fathers,  determined 
that  his  children  should  have  a  good  education. 
Their  first  teacher  was  a  Mile  Paris,  who  had  a  niece 
about  the  same  age  as  Henriette,  whom  M.  Genest 
kindly  allowed  to  spend  her  holidays  with  her  aunt. 
This  little  girl  was  very  pretty,  and  apparently  as 
modest  and  innocent  as  her  playmates.  When  she 
was  twelve  years  of  age,  M.  Genest,  judging  that 
the  friendship  had  lasted  long  enough,  and  perhaps 
noticing  some  evil  trait  In  his  children's  companion, 
gave  Mile  Paris  to  understand  that  her  niece,  who 
was   probably  destined   to   become  a   milliner  or   a 

9 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

dressmaker,  had  better  not  associate  with  his  children 
any  longer. 

About  ten  years  after  this  rupture,  the  future 
due  de  la  Vrilliere,  at  that  time  the  comte  de  Saint- 
Florentin,  came  to  see  M.  Genest,  when  the  following 
conversation  took  place  : — 

**  Have  you  an  elderly  woman  named  Pdris  in 
your  employ  ?"  asked  M.  de  Saint- Florentin. 

"Yes,"  replied  M.  Genest,  who  had  refused  to 
dismiss  the  woman  after  she  had  brought  up  all  his 
children,  and  had  given  her  a  home  when  she  was 
past  work. 

"  Do  you  know  her  young  niece  ?  " 

To  this  question  M.  Genest  replied  that  he  had 
formerly  allowed  the  child  to  spend  her  holidays  with 
his  children,  but  that  ten  years  ago  he  had  thought 
fit  to  forbid  her  his  house. 

**  You  acted  very  wisely,"  observed  his  visitor, 
"for  since  I  have  been  in  office  I  have  never  met 
with  a  more  bold-faced  intriguer  than  this  little  minx. 
She,  with  her  lies,  has  compromised  our  august 
sovereign,  our  pious  princesses,  Mesdames  Adelaide 
and  Victoire,  and  that  estimable  priest.  Father  Baret, 
the  curd  of  Saint-Louis,  who,  in  consequence  of  her 
falsehoods,  has  been  forbidden  to  exercise  his  sacred 
duties  until  the  infamous  intrigue  has  been  completely 
cleared  up.  The  young  woman  is  now  in  the  Bastille. 
Just  imagine  :  she,  with  her  clever  lies,  has  managed 
to  obtain  over  60,000  francs  from  divers  credulous 
folk  at  Versailles  ;  to  some  she  swore  she  was  the 
king's  mistress,  making  them  accompany  her  to  the 
glass  door  leading  to  his  apartments,  and  even 
going  so  far  as  to  enter  by  his  private  door,  which 

10 


ATTEMPT  TO  MURDER  LOUIS  XV 

she  had  bribed  some  of  the  footmen  to  open  for 
her." 

After  relating  other  crimes,  which  consisted  of 
accusing  the  curd  Baret  of  having  persuaded  her 
to  take  the  first  step  on  the  road  to  perdition,  of 
extorting  money  from  Mesdames  de  France,  M.  de 
Saint-Florentin  informed  M.  Genest  that  the  culprit 
had  at  last  confessed  her  faults,  and  was  about  to  be 
transferred  to  the  prison  of  Sainte-Pdlagie. 

Henriette  was  probably  too  young  to  notice  any 
peculiarities  in  the  conduct  of  her  first  little  play- 
mate ;  but  the  memory  of  the  tragic  fate  of  her 
governess's  niece  served  Mme  Campan  as  a  good 
excuse  for  being  very  careful  whom  she  admitted  to 
her  boarding  school  at  Saint-Germain. 

Henriette,  from  her  earliest  years,  displayed  a 
remarkable  memory.  One  of  the  most  interesting 
episodes  which  occurred  during  her  childhood  was 
Damiens'  attempt  to  murder  Louis  xv  when  she  was 
about  five  years  of  age  and  living  with  her  parents 
under  the  shadow  of  the  palace  of  Versailles. 

**  I  remember,"  says  she,  "  Damiens'  attempt  to 
assassinate  Louis  xv.  This  event  made  such  a  deep 
impression  upon  me  that  I  recollect  the  minutest 
details  of  the  grief  and  confusion  which  reigned  that 
day  at  Versailles  as  clearly  as  if  it  only  happened 
yesterday.  I  was  dining  with  my  parents  at  a  friend's 
house ;  the  salon  was  lighted  by  numerous  wax 
candles.  The  guests  had  just  sat  down  to  four  card- 
tables  when  a  friend  of  the  family  burst  into  the  room 
and,  with  his  face  distorted  by  emotion,  gasped  out : 
'  I  am  the  bearer  of  terrible  news  :  the  king  has  been 
assassinated ! '    Two  of  the  ladies  present  immediately 

II 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

fainted.  A  corporal  in  the  king's  bodyguard  flung 
his  cards  on  the  table,  exclaiming  :  '  I  am  not  sur- 
prised— it  is  all  the  fault  of  those  vile  Jesuits  ! '  *  For 
mercy's  sake,  take  care  what  you  are  saying,  brother,' 
said  a  lady,  flinging  her  arms  round  his  neck  ;  *  do  you 
want  to  get  yourself  arrested  ? ' — *  Arrested  ?  Why 
should  I  be  arrested,  just  because  I  show  up  those 
scoundrels  who  want  their  sovereign  to  be  as  bigoted 
as  themselves  ? '  My  father  now  entered  the  room. 
He  recommended  the  company  to  be  careful  of  what 
they  said  and  did,  told  us  that  the  wound  was  not 
fatal,  and  that  we  must  all  go  home,  because  nobody 
could  think  of  playing  cards  during  such  a  fearful 
crisis.  He  had  fetched  a  sedan-chair  for  my  mother. 
She  took  me  on  her  lap.  We  were  then  living  in  the 
Avenue  de  Paris.  I  heard  sighing  and  weeping  on 
all  sides.  I  saw  a  man  arrested  :  he  was  gentleman- 
usher  to  the  king ;  he  had  gone  quite  crazy,  and  was 
yelling,  '  I  know  them,  the  villains,  the  scoundrels ! ' 
The  crowd  prevented  our  chair  advancing.  My 
mother  knew  the  unhappy  man  who  had  just  been 
arrested ;  she  gave  his  name  to  the  mounted  guard. 
The  officer  contented  himself  with  taking  the  faithful 
servitor  to  the  police  station,  which  was  then  in  the 
same  avenue.  ...  In  those  days  the  nation's  love  for 
its  sovereign  amounted  to  a  religion,  and  this  attempt 
to  assassinate  Louis  xv  led  to  a  number  of  innocent 
people  being  arrested.  M.  de  La  Serre,  at  that  time 
Governor  of  the  Invalides,  his  wife,  his  daughter,  and 
some  of  his  servants  were  arrested  because  Mile  de  La 
Serre,  who  had  left  her  convent  that  very  day  in 
order  to  spend  Twelfth  Night  at  her  home,  had 
been  heard  to  say  in  her  father's  drawing-room  when 

12 


HENRIETTE  BECOMES  A  PRODIGY 

the  news  was  brought  from  Versailles,   '  It  is  not  to 

be  wondered  at ;  I  heard  Mother  N say  that  it 

was  bound  to  happen  sooner  or  later,   because  the 

king  was  not  sufficiently  religious  ! '     Mother  N 

and  several  nuns  were  cross-examined  by  the  police. 
For  some  time  past  the  partisans  of  Port- Royal  and 
the  partisans  of  the  new  sect  of  philosophers  had 
been  trying  to  make  the  Jesuits  unpopular  with  the 
public ;  and  of  a  certainty,  although  no  proof  could 
be  found  against  this  order,  the  attempt  upon  the 
king's  life  did  a  good  turn  to  the  party  which  a  few 
years  later  contrived  to  compass  the  downfall  of  the 
Jesuits.  That  scoundrel  Damiens  revenged  himself 
upon  many  persons  in  whose  service  he  had  been  by 
getting  them  arrested.  When  confronted  with  his 
former  masters,  he  would  say  to  them,  *  I  have  given 
you  this  fright  in  order  to  pay  you  out  for  what  you 
made  me  suffer.' " 

When  reading  the  account  of  the  long  torture  and 
horrible  death  of  Robert  le  Viable,  as  Damiens  was 
called,  the  question  presents  itself  whether  the 
executioners  of  Damiens  and  Ravaillac,  the  judges 
of  the  Vehmic  Court  and  the  Inquisition,  and  the 
leaders  of  that  modern  abomination,  the  Russian 
Pogrom,  did  not  make  a  mockery  of  Christianity  and, 
in  the  latter  case,  place  themselves  on  a  far  lower 
level  than  their  victims. 

At  fourteen  years  of  age  Henriette  Genest  was  in 
danger  of  becoming  a  blue-stocking.  Her  remark- 
able memory  enabled  her  to  learn  by  heart  long 
scenes  from  Racine's  tragedies,  which  she  then  recited 
to  her  father's  friends,  men  of  discernment  such  as 
Rochon  de  Chabannes  and  Barthe,  both  playwrights, 

13 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

Duclos,  the  fascinating  Marmontel,  and  the  latter's 
good  friend  Thomas.  Albanesi,  the  fashionable 
singing-master  of  the  day,  taught  her  to  warble 
Lully's  charming  melodies,  while  Goldoni,  professor 
of  Italian  to  Mesdames  de  France,  the  little 
Henriette's  future  mistresses,  instructed  her  in  his 
own  musical  language.  It  is  probable  that  Henriette's 
speaking  voice  was  more  remarkable  than  her  singing 
voice ;  she  herself  says  that  French  voices,  although 
naturally  sweet  in  tone,  are  neither  distinguished  for 
compass  nor  for  sonorousness.  Rousseau  was  still 
more  severe  upon  the  French  school  of  singing: 
"  Let  us  for  ever  renounce,"  says  he,  "  that  lugubrious 
and  tedious  style  of  singing  which  is  more  like  the 
crying  of  a  person  suffering  from  the  colic  than  the 
outpourings  of  a  tender  passion." 

Henriette's  fame  soon  spread  beyond  the  narrow 
walls  of  her  father's  salon.  Some  ladies  at  Court 
having  mentioned  to  Mesdames  de  France  the  fact 
that  M.  Genest  had  a  wonderfully  clever  daughter, 
now  in  her  fifteenth  year,  who  could  speak  several 
languages,  sing  and  play  the  harpsichord  like  an 
angel,  and — most  valuable  asset  in  the  frivolous 
society  of  those  days — had  a  remarkable  gift  for 
reading  aloud,  the  king's  daughters,  who  were  looking 
for  a  lectrice,  expressed  a  wish  to  see  this  little  piece 
of  perfection.  One  interview  sufficed.  A  week  later, 
Henriette,  wearing  a  long  train,  her  slender  figure 
enclosed  in  stiff  stays  and  voluminous  panniers,  with 
her  little  tear-stained  face  besmirched  with  rouge  and 
powder,  bade  farewell  to  her  peaceful  home  and  to 
the  little  sisters  and  brother  whom  she  had  mothered, 
and  entered  the  splendid  palace  which  was  to  shelter 

14 


HENRIETTE'S  FIRST  SITUATION 

her  until  the  Revolution  came  and  drove  its  numerous 
inhabitants,  great  and  small,  into  the  wide  world. 
Though  proud  of  her  success,  her  father  was  loath  to 
let  the  eldest  fledgling  spread  her  wings.  Henriette 
tells  us  :  "  On  the  occasion  of  putting  on  Court  dress 
for  the  first  time,  I  went  into  my  father's  study  to 
kiss  him  and  to  say  good-bye.  Tears  fell  from  his  eyes. 
He  said:  'The  princesses  will  be  glad  to  make  use 
of  your  talents ;  great  people  know  how  to  bestow 
praise  graciously,  but  their  praises  are  often  fulsome. 
Do  not  allow  their  compliments  to  elate  you  too 
much ;  rather  be  on  your  guard.  Whenever  you 
receive  flattering  attentions,  you  may  be  sure  that 
you  will  gain  an  enemy.  I  warn  you,  my  daughter, 
against  the  inevitable  trials  which  you,  in  your  new 
career,  will  have  to  face  ;  and  I  swear  on  this  day, 
when  you  are  about  to  enjoy  your  good  fortune,  if 
I  had  been  able  to  choose  another  profession  for  you, 
never  would  I  have  abandoned  my  beloved  child  to 
the  torments  and  dangers  of  Court  life.' " 

Versailles,  with  its  labyrinth  of  narrow  passages 
and  dark  staircases,  must  have  seemed  like  a  horrible 
nightmare  to  the  frightened  little  lectrice.  Marie 
Leczinska,  after  forty  years  of  fidelity  to  an  unworthy 
husband,  had  lately  died,  and  the  Court  had  gone  into 
deep  mourning.  On  entering  the  great  courtyard, 
Henriette  beheld  a  group  of  royal  coaches  drawn 
by  horses  wearing  huge  black  plumes,  led  by  pages 
and  footmen  with  heavy  black  shoulder-knots  richly 
embroidered  with  silver  spangles.  She  was  then  con- 
ducted through  the  state  apartments,  the  walls  of  which 
were  hung  with  black  cloth,  while  canopies  surmounted 
by  more  bunches  of  sable  plumes  were  placed  over  the 

15 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMP  AN 

arm-chairs  of  the  king  and  his  daughters.  No  wonder 
that  her  spirits  sank  lower  and  lower  the  nearer  she 
approached  the  private  apartments  of  Mesdames  de 
France.  When  she  was  at  last  ushered  into  Madame 
Victoire's  boudoir,  her  legs  were  trembling  so  she 
could  scarcely  stand.  If  she  was  so  terrified  on  merely 
beholding  her  mistresses,  what  did  she  not  feel  when 
she  had  to  address  them  ?  Her  first  attempt  at 
reading  aloud  nearly  ended  in  a  fiasco.  She  says : 
"  I  could  not  utter  two  sentences ;  my  heart  beat,  my 
voice  trembled,  and  I  turned  giddy."  Luckily  she 
gathered  courage  as  she  went  along,  and  at  last  the 
dreadful  ordeal  was  over. 

Her  first  interview  with  her  mistresses'  father  was 
calculated  to  make  her  still  more  nervous.  It  was 
her  ill-luck  to  meet  Louis  xv  just  as  he  was  starting 
on  one  of  his  hunting  expeditions,  and  when  he 
was  surrounded  by  the  usual  rabble  of  courtiers, 
courtesans,  time  -  servers,  and  place  -  seekers.  On 
seeing  a  face  he  did  not  know,  the  king  inquired  of 
one  of  his  courtiers  who  this  quaint,  old-fashioned 
little  lady  was,  and  then  began  to  catechize  his 
daughters'  lee  trice. 

"  Mademoiselle  Genest,"  said  he,  "I  am  told  that 
you  are  very  learned — that  you  know  four  or  five 
foreign  languages." 

'*  I  only  know  two.  Sire,"  replied  the  child, 
trembling  with  terror  for  what  might  come  next. 

♦*  Which  arc  they  ? " 

"English  and  Italian." 

*'  And  can  you  speak  them  fluently  ?  " 

*'  Yes,  Sire,  very  fluently." 

**  Well,  that  is  quite  enough  to  drive  any  husband 

i6 


MESDAMES  DE  FRANCE 

quite  crazy  !  "  remarked  the  king  as  he  moved  on, 
convulsed  with  laughter  at  his  own  wit,  leaving  poor 
little  Henriette  covered  with  shame  and  confusion. 

How  bitterly  Henriette  learnt  to  regret  her  home 
and  the  noisy  little  sisters  and  brother  during  those 
first  weeks  at  Versailles  !  She  never  left  Mesdames 
apartments  except  when  she  accompanied  her 
mistresses  on  those  dreary  drives  In  state ;  for 
Mesdames,  although  fond  of  walking,  were  forbidden 
by  etiquette  to  walk  anywhere  but  in  the  palace 
gardens.  Sometimes  Henriette  spent  the  whole  day 
reading  to  Madame  Victoire. 

Of  Mesdaines  de  France,  the  daughters  of  Louis 
XV,  Mme  Campan  said  in  after  years  that,  if  they  had 
not  invented  occupations  for  themselves,  they  would 
have  been  much  to  be  pitied.  After  the  death  of 
their  mother,  whom  they  loved,  although  she  did  not 
display  much  affection  for  her  numerous  daughters, 
they  saw  but  little  of  their  father,  for  whose  conduct 
they  have  sometimes  been  blamed.  It  was  to  the 
boudoir  of  Madame  Adelaide  that  Louis  xv  was  in 
the  habit  of  carrying  his  morning  cup  of  coffee,  when 
Madame  Adelaide  would  ring  her  bell  as  a  signal  to 
announce  his  arrival  to  Madame  Victoire,  who  in  turn 
would  ring  for  Madame  Sophie,  and  the  latter  for 
Madame  Louise.  Now  the  last-named  princess,  the 
king's  youngest  living  daughter,  was  deformed  and 
rather  lame.  As  her  apartments  were  situated  at 
some  distance  from  Madame  Adelaide's  boudoir  she, 
on  hearing  the  signal,  would  jump  up  in  great  haste 
and  limp  with  all  expedition  through  her  sisters'  huge 
suites  of  rooms ;  and  yet,  sometimes,  notwithstanding 
all  her  care,  it  happened  that  she  could  only  reach  her 

B  17 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

eldest  sister's  room  ;ust  in  time  to  kiss  her  father  good- 
bye before  he  hurried  off  to  his  favourite  occupation, 
hunting. 

Louis  XV  had  had  eight  daughters  :  Elisabeth  and 
Henriette,  twins,  born  in  1727,  the  first  of  whom 
married  the  Infante  of  Spain,  while  the  latter  died 
unmarried  in  1752;  Louise,  born  1728,  died  1732; 
Adelaide,  born  1732;  Victoire,  born  1733;  Sophie, 
born  1734;  Marie-Th^rese-Fdlicit^,  called  Mada^ne 
Sixieme,  born  1736,  died  1744;  and  a  second  Louise, 
called  Madame  Derniere,  born  1737,  who  later  became 
a  nun. 

Louis  was  fond  of  giving  nicknames  :  his  favourite, 
Adelaide, — a  certain  resemblance  to  his  mother,  the 
duchesse  de  Bourgogne,  was  said  to  account  for  this 
preference, — was  called  Loque  (Scraggy)  because  she 
was  so  thin  ;  Victoire  was  Coche  (Sow)  on  account  of 
her  embonpoint ;  Sophie  was  Graille  (Carrion-crow), 
and  poor  deformed  Louise,  Chiffe  (Rags). 

At  six  o'clock  every  evening  Henriette  stopped 
her  reading,  when  Mesdames  folded  up  their  intermin- 
able pieces  of  embroidery  and  prepared  to  attend  the 
king's  ddbotter,  which  ceremony  sometimes  only  lasted 
fifteen  minutes.  Now  etiquette  reigned  supreme  at 
the  Court  of  Versailles,  and  Mesdames  had,  before 
going  to  this  ceremony,  to  array  themselves  in 
enormous  hoops  worn  over  gold  embroidered  petti- 
coats together  with  a  train,  all  of  which  were  fastened 
round  the  waist  and  thus  concealed  the  ddshabilU 
underneath.  Then,  clad  in  long  black  tafTeta  mantles 
which  covered  them  up  to  the  chin  and  kept  them 
from  catching  cold  in  draughty  passages,  the  ladies 
would  hurry  down  their  private  staircase,  assist  at  the 

18 


MESDAMES'  EDUCATION 

king's  debotter,  and  then  return  to  their  own  rooms, 
where  they  would  sit  down  again  to  their  embroidery- 
frames  and  Henriette  would  open  her  book  and 
continue  where  she  had  left  off 

Mesdames  education  had  been  sadly  neglected ; 
and  it  was  thanks  to  Cardinal  Fleury  that  they 
received  any  education  at  all.  It  was  at  his  advice 
that  the  little  princesses  were  sent  to  the  convent  of 
Fontevrault  instead  of  to  the  fashionable  establish- 
ment at  Saint-Cyr,  where  their  grandmother,  the 
duchesse  de  Bourgogne,  had  been  educated.  The 
Cardinal  had  furnished  as  his  reason  for  choosing 
Fontevrault  instead  of  Saint-Cyr  that  the  education 
given  at  the  latter  establishment — where,  however, 
the  rule  was  so  strict  that  the  pupils  never  had  any- 
thing but  dry  bread  for  breakfast — was  not  adapted 
to  prepare  such  future  great  ladies  as  Mesdames  de 
France  for  the  position  which  they  would  soon  be 
called  upon  to  occupy.  However,  it  is  highly  probable 
that  the  dames  de  Saint-Cyr  were  quite  as  competent, 
or  incompetent,  as  their  sisters  at  Fontevrault ;  for 
Madame  Louise,  at  twelve  years  of  age,  had  not 
contrived  to  master  the  alphabet,  and  she  only  learnt 
to  write  after  her  return  to  Versailles. 

Mesdames  Quatrieme,  Cinquieme,  Sixieme,  and 
Septieme,  as  they  were  called,  were  packed  off  to 
their  convent  while  the  two  youngest  were  still  so 
small  that  they  had  to  be  held  on  their  nurses'  knees. 
We  can  picture  to  ourselves  the  arrival  of  the  four 
little  misses,  two  of  whom,  Marie-Therese-Fdlicitd 
and  Louise,  remained  several  years  at  Fontevrault 
without  their  parents  once  taking  the  trouble  to 
come    and    see   them    or   sending   for   them.      The 

19 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

Mother  Superior  and  some  of  the  elder  nuns  dressed 
themselves  in  white  garments  to  receive  the  little 
ones  lest  their  sombre  garb  should  frighten  the 
babes.  Mesdames  made  a  favourable  impression  by 
blowing  kisses  to  the  crowd  of  nuns  and  pupils  which 
had  assembled  to  see  the  Court  equipage  drive 
through  the  massive  convent-gates. 

The  nuns  by  turns  spoiled  the  young  princesses 
horribly  or  were  absurdly  strict.  Madame  Victoire 
was  subject  all  her  life  to  attacks  of  unreasonable 
terror  owing  to  the  fact  that  when  she  had  been 
naughty  she  used  to  be  shut  up  all  alone  in  a  dark 
vault  used  as  the  nuns'  burying-place.  On  one 
occasion  the  gardener  belonging  to  the  convent  was 
bitten  by  a  mad  dog  ;  while  he  was  dying  of  hydro- 
phobia, the  pupils  were  taken  to  the  chapel  to  recite 
prayers  for  the  dying,  which  prayers  were  frequently 
interrupted  by  the  yells  of  the  poor  gardener,  who  was 
lying  in  a  cottage  near  by. 

Madame  Adelaide  was  the  enfant  terrible  of  the 
convent ;  one  person  alone  had  the  courage  to  resist 
her  imperious  will,  and  that  person  was  her  dancing- 
master,  and  the  only  one  of  Mesdames  professors  who 
had  been  allowed  to  follow  them  to  Fontevrault. 
The  dancing-master  once  wanted  to  teach  the  young 
princess  a  new  and  fashionable  dance  called  the 
menuet  rose.  Adelaide  took  it  into  her  head  to 
baptize  the  dance  the  jnenuet  bleu.  The  professor 
refused  to  change  its  name,  and  told  his  pupil  she 
would  only  be  laughed  at  by  her  parents'  courtiers  if 
she  persisted  in  misnaming  the  minuet,  upon  hearing 
which  Adelaide  tossed  her  head,  stamped  with  her 
foot,  refused  even  to  go  through  the  first  steps,  and 

20 


MADAME  ADELAIDE 

screamed  "  Blue,  blue,  blue  "  at  the  top  of  her  shrill 
voice.  However,  the  dancing-master  kept  up  a  bass 
accompaniment  of  ''  Pink,  pink,  pink,"  until  the 
Mother  Superior  came  to  inquire  what  all  the  noise 
was  about,  and  then  very  unwisely  decided  that 
Mademoiselle  was  to  have  her  own  way  ;  whereupon 
that  young  lady,  now  all  smiles  and  sweetness,  daintily 
seized  the  edge  of  her  silken  skirt,  pointed  her  toes, 
and  went  through  her  steps  like  an  angel/  Madame 
Adelaide  had  considerable  power  over  her  father  as 
his  favourite  daughter,  and  was  in  the  habit  of  saying 
"  We  will  do  this,"  or '' We  will  do  that." 

Mesdames  were  still  scarcely  more  than  children 
when  they  left  their  convent  and  returned  to  the  splendid 
but  unhomelike  palace  of  Versailles.  Here  they  found 
a  friend,  however,  in  the  person  of  the  Dauphin,  and, 
at  his  advice,  they  continued  the  education  begun  in 
their  convent ;  indeed,  they  worked  with  such  a  will 
that  they  were  soon  able  to  read  and  write  their 
native  language  quite  correctly  and  had  learnt  some- 
thing about  French  history. 

Madame  Addaide  had  promised  to  be  pretty  in 
her  early  youth,  but,  as  her  lectrice  tells  us,  "  never  did 
any  woman  lose  her  good  looks  earlier  than  she  lost 
hers."  This  loss  probably  embittered  her  temper,  for 
Madame  Adelaide,  who  was  the  wittiest  of  the  king's 
daughters,  became  with  age  harsh  in  manners  and 
voice.  On  one  occasion  Madame  Adelaide's  chaplain 
having  said  the  Dominus  Vobiscum  in  what  she  con- 
sidered an  arrogant  manner,  his  royal  mistress  had 
him  into  her  boudoir  and  told  him  to  ''  recollect  that 

^  M.  de  Barthelemy  says  the  heroine  of  this  incident  was  "  Madame 
Victoire,  as  Madame  Adelaide  was  not  at  Fontevrault  at  that  time." 

1\ 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

he  was  not  a  bishop,  and  to  be  careful  not  to  try  to 
imitate  the  ways  of  bishops." 

Madame  Adelaide  fancied  herself  musical,  and 
insisted  on  learning  such  impossible  and  unfeminine 
instruments  as  the  horn  and  the  Jew's  harp,  after 
which  she  set  herself  to  learn  English,  Italian, — which 
language  was  to  prove  so  useful  during  the  years  of 
exile, — mathematics,  watchmaking,  etc.  She  had  a 
great  opinion  of  her  own  importance :  nothing 
angered  her  more  than  to  be  called  Royal  Highness 
by  the  ambassadors  at  her  father's  Court  ;  she  wished 
to  be  Madame.  At  six  years  of  age  she  had  gravely 
informed  her  parents  that  she  did  not  approve  of  her 
sister  Elisabeth's  marriage.  Although  she  had  the 
Bourbon  fault  of  greediness,  she  never  touched  wine, 
and  any  guest  sitting  by  her  side  at  dinner  was 
expected  to  turn  away  from  her  when  drinking  out  of 
his  or  her  own  glass. 

Now  Madame  Adelaide  had  a  great  friend,  Mme 
de  Narbonne,  whose  husband  Lady  Blennerhassett 
and  other  authors  say  acted  as  chamberlain  and 
lover  to  his  royal  mistress.  In  order  to  avoid  a 
scandal,  Mme  de  Narbonne  consented  to  pass  the 
child  born  of  this  liaison  off  as  her  own.  The 
boy,  **  whose  noble  physiognomy,"  says  Lamartine, 
''  reminded  people  of  Louis  xv  in  his  youth,"  was 
much  petted  by  the  royal  family  and  especially  by 
Mesdames.  Madame  Adelaide  had  another  friend, 
the  marquise  de  Durfort,  made  duchesse  de  Civrac 
by  the  will  of  her  royal  mistress.  These  two  ladies, 
Mmes  de  Narbonne  and  de  Durfort  were  accused, 
rightly  or  wrongly,  of  doing  everything  they  could  to 
make   mischief    between   the   royal   sisters.      Count 

22 


MADAME  VICTOIRE 

Louis,  the  son  of  Mme  de  Narbonne,  became  rather 
a  spendthrift  as  he  grew  up  :  what  was  easier  for  him 
than  to  worry  his  mother  for  money  ?  These  cease- 
less demands  tried  Mme  de  Narbonne's  temper,  and 
Mme  de  Boigne  hints  that  Madame  Adelaide's  friend 
was  not  above  working  off  her  fits  of  anger  on  her 
royal  mistress  until  Madame  Adelaide,  weary  of  being 
snapped  at,  consented  to  open  her  purse  for  the 
prodigal's  benefit. 

Madame  Victoire  was  handsome  and  more  gracious 
in  her  manner  than  Adelaide,  and  therefore  more 
beloved  by  her  household.  She  also  had  the  Bourbon 
appetite,  of  which  she  vainly  endeavoured  to  cure 
herself.  Lent  to  her  was  something  more  than  a 
period  of  fasting  and  abstinence  :  it  was  a  time  of 
torture.  The  hour  of  midnight  on  Easter  Eve  was 
looked  upon  by  her  as  the  hour  of  liberation,  and  was 
duly  celebrated  by  a  copious  meal  of  chicken,  fish, 
and  other  sustaining  food.  She  suffered  mental 
anguish  as  to  whether  such  and  such  a  dish  were 
Lenten  fare  or  not.  There  was  a  certain  water-fowl 
to  which  she  was  particularly  partial ;  a  bishop 
happening  to  be  dining  with  Madame  Victoire  when 
this  bird  was  served,  he  was  asked  whether  his  royal 
hostess  might  partake  of  it  without  imperilling  her 
soul.  The  reverend  gentleman  informed  the  princess 
that  it  was  the  custom,  when  in  doubt,  to  carve  the 
fowl  on  an  ice-cold  silver  dish  ;  if  the  gravy  became 
congealed  within  a  quarter  of  an  hour  after  this 
operation,  it  showed  that  the  animal  was  red  meat  and 
therefore  unfit  to  be  eaten  in  Lent ;  if,  on  the  contrary, 
the  gravy  remained  liquid,  the  bird  could  be  eaten 
without  any  qualms  of  conscience.     The  experiment 

23 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

was  tried   forthwith  :   the  gravy  remained  liquid,  to 
Madame  Victoire's  great  delight. 

Nobody  who  has  seen  Nattier's  charming  portrait 
of  Madame  Sophie  at  Versailles  would  think  that  she 
was  the  Ugly  Duckling  of  the  family  ;  but  such  was 
the  case,  and  poor  Sophie  knew  it.  Even  her  lectrice 
calls  her  sauvage^2.w^  adds  that  she  never  saw  a  more 
timid,  nervous  creature.  Casimir  Stryienski  says : 
"  She  was  insignificant  from  her  birth,  and  remained 
so  until  her  last  day."  Perhaps  the  education 
received  at  Fontevrault  had  something  to  do  with  her 
eccentric  manners.  She  was  never  known  to  walk 
slowly,  but  always  seemed  as  if  she  were  running  away 
from  somebody  or  something.  Whenever  any  of  the 
palace  attendants  heard  her  hurried  step,  they  drew 
on  one  side  until  she  had  passed  them  blinking  out 
of  the  corners  of  her  eyes  like  a  frightened  hare.  A 
whole  year  would  elapse  without  her  voice  being  heard 
in  her  father's  presence,  and  yet  her  lectrice  says  that 
to  certain  ladies  she  could  be  very  civil  and  even  join 
in  witty  repartee.  She  was  fond  of  study,  but  pre- 
ferred to  read  herself  rather  than  be  read  to.  This 
timid  princess,  however,  became  another  person  on 
the  approach  of  a  thunder-storm ;  her  brusque 
manners  disappeared  completely,  and  she  was  sud- 
denly metamorphosed  into  the  most  charming,  affable 
creature  possible.  In  such  moments  she  seemed  to 
feel  the  need  of  human  companionship,  and  preferred 
to  talk  with  the  humblest  servitor  in  her  father's 
household  rather  than  face  the  dreaded  storm  alone 
in  her  own  boudoir.  With  the  first  rumble  of  distant 
thunder  she  became  talkative,  seized  the  hands  of  the 
person  nearest  her,  and  displayed  the  greatest  interest 

24 


THE  UGLY  DUCKLING 

in  that  person's  family  affairs.  The  storm  over,  the 
Ugly  Duckling  released  her  victim  and  shuffled  off  to 
her  own  apartments  without  so  much  as  saying  good- 
bye to  the  good  Samaritan. 

Madame  Louise  was  the  favourite  of  her  sisters 
and  her  lecU^ice.  Owing  to  a  fall  during  her  babyhood, 
this  princess  had  one  shoulder  higher  than  the  other, 
besides  which  she  had  a  slight  limp.  These  physical 
defects  caused  her  to  lead  a  retired  life  like  her  sister 
Sophie,  only  in  her  case  it  was  not  timidity  but  dislike 
for  the  society  at  her  father's  Court  which  was  the 
reason.  She  was  kind  to  the  little  Henriette.  She 
had  made  a  rule  that  she  must  be  read  to  for  at  least 
five  hours  every  day,  but  she  frequently  took  pity  on 
the  child  when  her  voice  became  husky,  and  would 
even  place  a  glass  of  eau  sucrde  prepared  by  her  own 
hands  on  the  table  by  her  side. 


25 


CHAPTER   II 

Louis  XV  surprises  his  daughters'  lectrice  in  the  act  of  making 
"cheeses" — Madame  Louise  takes  the  veil — Arrival  in  France  of 
Marie  Antoinette — Henriette  loses  her  heart — Mesdatnes  try  to  find 
a  husband  for  their  lectrice — The  origin  of  the  Campan  family — 
Marie  Antoinette  makes  Henriette  Campan  her  waiting-woman — 
Mesdames'  hatred  for  Marie  Antoinette — Mesdames  go  to  Bellevue, 
and  Henriette  leaves  their  service — The  Court  is  jealous  of  Mme 
Campan's  influence. 

Mesdames'  tedious  existence  at  Versailles  was  some- 
times varied  by  visits  to  Compiegne.  During  one  of 
these  visits,  the  king  one  day  came  unexpectedly  into 
Madame  Victolre's  boudoir  while  Henriette  was 
reading  to  her  mistress ;  the  lectrice  immediately 
arose  and  retired  into  an  adjoining  room.  Here  the 
child,  weary  of  reading  dry  tomes,  and  mayhap 
remembering  the  merry  games  with  her  little  sisters 
and  brother  in  the  old  home,  began  to  make  what 
nursery-maids  call  "cheeses":  that  is  to  say,  after 
having  twirled  swiftly  round  and  round  on  one  foot 
with  arms  extended,  the  little  lectrice  sank  down  on 
the  floor  with  her  silken  skirts  Inflated  round  her  like 
a  balloon.  So  absorbed  did  she  grow  in  this  fascinat- 
ing operation  that  she  quite  lost  count  of  time.  Just 
as  she  had  accomplished  her  most  successful  "  cheese," 
while  she  was  still  squatting  on  the  floor  gazing  in 
ecstasy  at  the  perfect  circle  made  by  her  voluminous 
skirts,  the  door  of  Madame  Victolre's  boudoir  was 

26 


A  CHEESE-MAKING  LECTRICE 

thrown  open  and  she  and  the  king  appeared.  The 
little  lectrice,  overcome  with  horror  at  being  caught 
playing  like  a  child  in  its  nursery,  endeavoured  to 
rise  from  the  ground  and  assume  a  position  more  in 
keeping  with  her  post ;  but  her  head  was  probably 
somewhat  giddy  from  this  unusual  exercise,  for,  in- 
stead of  rising,  she  tumbled  over  her  own  feet  and 
again  fell  to  the  ground,  making  the  most  beautiful 
''cheese"  of  all  as  she  did  so.  Her  sudden  collapse 
caused  the  king  to  burst  into  a  fit  of  loud  laughter. 
**  Daughter,"  said  he  to  Madame  Victoire,  "  I  advise 
you  to  send  your  cheese-making  lectrice  back  to  her 
convent." 

The  life  led  by  Henriette  at  the  Court  of  Versailles 
was  calculated  to  make  her  old  before  her  time.  It 
had  had  a  blighting  effect  upon  the  king's  daughters  ; 
theirs  was  a  strange  existence,  and  each  princess 
accepted  her  fate  according  to  her  temperament. 
Madame  Adelaide  found  consolation  in  her  male  and 
female  friends  ;  Madame  Victoire  confessed  that  life 
was  worth  living  as  long  as  she  could  enjoy  a  good 
meal ;  Madame  Sophie's  pride  enabled  her  to  lock  up 
in  her  own  breast  all  her  regrets  for  what  Fate  had 
withheld  from  her,  while  Madame  Louise  sought 
peace  of  mind  on  her  prie-Dieu.  This  religious 
tendency  developed  as  she  grew  older,  and  eventually 
led  to  her  entering  a  convent. 

Henriette  says  in  her  memoirs:  "One  evening, 
while  I  was  reading  aloud  to  Madame  Louise,  a 
steward  came  in  to  tell  her  that  M.  Bertin,  one  of  the 
king's  Ministers,  asked  to  speak  with  her.  She  left 
the  room  in  a  great  hurry,  returned,  picked  up  her 
embroidery  and  her  silks,  made  me  take  up  my  book 

21 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

again,  and  when  I  had  finished  and  was  leaving  the 
room,  commanded  me  to  come  to  her  study  at  eleven 
o'clock  on  the  morrow.  On  doing  so,  I  was  in- 
formed that  the  princess  had  left  the  palace  at  seven 
oclock  that  very  morning,  and  had  gone  to  the 
Carmelite  Convent  at  Saint-Denis,  where  she  wished 
to  take  the  veil.  I  went  to  Madame  Victoire's 
apartments.  Here  I  learnt  that  the  king  alone  had 
been  told  of  Madame  Louise's  plan,  that  he  had  faith- 
fully kept  it  secret,  and  that,  after  having  for  long 
opposed  her  wishes,  he  had  sent  her  his  permission 
on  the  previous  evening  ;  that  she  had  gone  all  alone 
to  the  convent,  where  she  was  expected ;  that  a  few 
minutes  after  her  arrival  she  had  reappeared  at  the 
grating,  in  order  to  show  the  princesse  de  Guistel  and 
her  equerry  who  had  accompanied  her,  the  king's 
permission  for  her  to  enter  the  convent." 

Madame  Adelaide,  on  learning  of  her  sister's 
sudden  departure,  coolly  asked,  "  With  whom  has  she 
gone  ? "  and  then  fell  into  a  violent  passion  and 
scolded  her  father  for  having  kept  the  matter  secret 
from  her,  his  favourite  daughter. 

Madame  Victoire  shed  many  a  tear  over  the  loss 
of  the  one  person  for  whom  she  had  any  real  affection 
besides  herself  Her  little  lectrice  was  so  afraid  that 
her  mistress  would  be  tempted  to  follow  her  sister's 
example  that  she  flung  herself  at  the  princess's  feet 
and  begged  her  with  tears  in  her  eyes  not  to  go 
away  and  leave  her.  Whereupon,  Madame  Victoire 
made  her  rise,  kissed  her,  and  with  a  smile,  pointing 
to  the  comfortable  arm-chair  in  which  she  was  sitting, 
said  : — 

"  Don't  be  afraid,  my  child ;  I  shall  never  have 

28 


MADAME  LOUISE  TAKES  THE  VEIL 

Louise's  courage.     I  am  too  fond  of  being  comfort- 
able.    This  arm-chair  will  be  the  undoing  of  me." 

After  a  little  time  Henriette  asked  to  be  allowed 
to  go  to  visit  her  late  mistress.  To  her  surprise, 
she  found  the  princess,  although  occupied  by  the  very- 
unfamiliar  task  of  washing  her  clothes,  looking  much 
stronger  and  happier  than  she  had  ever  looked  at 
Versailles.  Henriette  was  deeply  touched  when 
Madame  Louise  begged  her  to  forgive  her  for  having 
made  her  read  so  much  aloud ;  she  then  confessed  to 
her  former  lectrice  that  she  had  long  ago  determined 
to  become  a  nun,  and,  knowing  that  when  once  she 
had  taken  the  veil  she  would  not  be  allowed  to  read 
anything  but  religious  works,  she  had  wanted  to  hear 
her  favourite  authors  once  more  before  she  retired 
from  the  world. 

But  although  she  no  longer  lived  in  a  palace, 
Madame  Louise  received  many  visitors,  bishops^ 
archbishops',  priests,  who  came  to  beg  her  to  obtain 
favours  for  them  from  her  father.  It  is  probable  that 
Madame  Louise  hoped  to  persuade  her  parent  to 
"make  a  good  death,"  as  the  phrase  goes,  and  that 
she  might  be  instrumental  in  getting  him  into  the 
heaven  about  which  he  never  troubled  himself  to  think. 

Henriette's  life  at  Versailles  was,  if  possible,  even 
duller  after  Madame  Louise's  departure  than  it  had 
been  before  that  event,  and  we  can  be  sure  that  she 
for  one  was  glad  to  learn  in  1770  that  a  young 
princess,  Marie  Antoinette,  was  coming  to  enliven 
the  Court.  However,  the  aunts  of  that  princess's 
future  husband  were  less  pleased.  Madame  Adelaide, 
for  instance,  loudly  expressed  her  disapproval  of  her 
nephew's  marriage  to  an  archduchess,  and  swore  that 

29 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

if  she  had  had  any  voice  in  the  matter  she  should  not 
have  chosen  an  Austrian.  There  was  a  good  deal  of 
jealousy  mingled  with  Madame  Adelaide's  dislike  of 
the  Dauphine ;  she  could  not  forget  that  she  herself 
had  once  been  young,  pretty,  full  of  life  and  spirit — 
now  she  was  elderly,  ugly,  harsh  in  voice  and  manner  ; 
the  young  bride's  high  spirits  grated  on  her  nerves. 
Mesdames,  during  those  long  years  of  seclusion,  had 
learnt  to  hide  their  feelings,  and  so  they  managed  to 
receive  the  Dauphine  with  a  certain  show  of  cordiality. 
They  gave  her  some  magnificent  wedding-presents, 
and  Madame  Adelaide  even  went  the  length  of  pre- 
senting her  with  the  key  leading  to  her  private  apart- 
ments, begging  her  to  pay  her  little  visits  whenever 
she  felt  inclined  to  slip  away  from  stiff  Court  etiquette. 
This  invitation  the  Dauphine  readily  accepted.  How- 
ever, the  visits  gave  but  little  pleasure  to  either  party. 
Madame  Victoire  really  wished  to  be  of  use  to  the 
young,  inexperienced  princess,  and  to  help  her  by 
her  good  advice  to  avoid  those  rocks  and  pitfalls 
which  eventually  led  to  the  queen's  ruin. 

But  there  was  one  person  who  was  determined 
that  Mesdanies  friendship  should  not  prosper,  and 
that  was  the  Abbe  de  Vermond.  This  man,  the  son 
of  a  country  physician  and  the  brother  of  Marie 
Antoinette's  future  accoucheur,  a  doctor  of  theology 
at  the  Sorbonne  and  the  librarian  of  the  College 
Mazarin,  had  been  chosen,  thanks  to  his  influence 
with  Lomenie  de  Brienne,  to  go  to  Vienna  there  to 
perfect  the  Dauphin's  fiancee  in  the  language  of  her 
future  country.  Although  the  Abb6  failed  to  com- 
plete her  education — for  on  her  arrival  the  arch- 
duchess was  unable  to  speak  or  write  French  correctly 

30 


THE  AUTRICHIENNE  ARRIVES 

— he  managed  to  obtain  the  Dauphine's  entire  confi- 
dence and  to  exercise  considerable  influence  over  her. 

The  Abbe  prided  himself  upon  being  eccentric, 
would  receive  Ministers  and  even  bishops  while  in  his 
bath — but  this  Marie  Antoinette  and  Marat  also  did 
— and  generally  treated  his  superiors  as  if  they  were 
his  subordinates.  During  his  daily  visits  to  the 
Dauphine  he  excited  her  to  ridicule  the  advice  of 
that  excellent  creature,  Mme  de  Noailles,  whom  she 
baptized  Madame  H Etiquette. 

The  young  bride's  troubles  began  almost  as  soon 
as  she  had  set  foot  in  France.  During  one  of  the 
fetes  given  in  her  honour,  Louis  xv  invited  the  bride 
and  bridegroom,  all  the  members  of  the  royal  family, 
and  the  ladies  of  his  Court  to  a  grand  supper.  To 
the  surprise  and  disgust  of  the  daughter  of  Maria 
Theresa,  she  found  that  Mme  du  Barry  had  been 
included  among  the  favoured  guests.  However,  she 
managed  to  conceal  her  feelings  until  the  end  of  the 
evening.  No  sooner  had  she  retired  than  the  king 
began  to  sing  her  praises  and  to  congratulate  himself 
upon  having  chosen  such  a  charming  bride  for  his 
grandson.  But  this  praise  gave  great  offence  to 
Mme  du  Barry,  who  was  considerably  older  than  the 
fair  bride,  and  so  she  gave  vent  to  her  spite  by 
criticizing  the  Dauphine's  face,  walk,  and  manners. 

Madame  Adelaide  was  soon  enabled  to  find  an 
excuse  for  disliking  the  Autrichienne  when,  soon 
after  the  latter's  arrival,  the  card-tables  which  since 
Marie  Leczinska's  death  had  been  kept  in  her 
daughter's  apartments  were  removed  to  those  of  the 
Dauphine.  In  order  to  show  that  she  considered 
herself  slighted,  Madame  Adelaide  established  a  rival 

31 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

set  of  card-tables  in  her  now  empty  rooms,  and 
abstained  from  any  intercourse  with  her  niece  except 
when  obliged  to  visit  her  or  receive  her  visits. 

Reports  of  the  archduchess's  skill  in  composing 
Latin  speeches  had  preceded  her  arrival  in  France. 
However,  Mesdmnes  lectrice  did  not  take  long  to 
discover  that  the  bride  was  quite  unfamiliar  with  that 
language,  and  she  subsequently  learnt  that  whenever 
the  young  archduchess  had  had  to  deliver  Latin 
addresses  at  her  mother's  Court,  somebody  had 
written  them  for  her  so  that  she  could  read  them  as 
a  parrot  talks  without  knowing  what  it  is  saying. 
Henriette  also  found  out  that,  though  the  Dauphine 
could  say  a  few  sentences  in  Italian,  she  knew  practi- 
cally nothing  about  history,  literature,  or  the  fine  arts. 

During  the  Dauphine's  none  too  frequent  visits  to 
her  husband's  aunts,  she  noticed  Mile  Henriette, 
heard  her  read  aloud,  and  sometimes  asked  her  to 
accompany  her  on  the  piano  or  the  harp.  Indeed,  she 
was  so  struck  by  Henriette's  charm  of  manner  and 
musical  gifts  that  she  begged  the  king  to  let  her 
share  Mesdames  lectrice.  This  favour  he  granted 
willingly. 

Henriette  Genest  had  now  reached  the  age  of 
eighteen.  Of  course  she  had  had  several  proposals, 
for  she  was  pretty  and  charming — and  she  had  lost 
her  heart.  In  a  letter  written  to  her  beloved  pupil 
Hortense  de  Beauharnais,  when  the  snow  of  many 
winters  had  whitened  her  hair,  she  says  (and  we  can 
almost  see  the  tears  fall  on  the  page) :  **  Do  not 
laugh  at  my  old  love-affairs  :  I  loved  a  man  whom  I 
had  known  for  six  years,  who  was  witty,  handsome, 
rich,  and  a  soldier  ;  but  when  I  was  informed  that  the 

32 


Copyright  by\ 


Marie  Antoinette. 

From  an  eighteenth-centur)'^  painting,  French  School. 


[Braun  &>  Co. 


c     t        t    t 


"I,  TOO,  HAVE  BEEN  IN  ARCADY" 

difference  of  religion,  which  unfortunately  had  not 
been  suspected  until  then,  would  cause  me  to  lose  my 
place  as  lectrice  at  Court,  that  people  would  gossip 
about  me,  that  I  should  be  blamed,  that  I  should 
bring  disfavour  upon  the  person  who  had  formed  an 
attachment  for  me,  I  made  up  my  mind.  He  was  so 
determined  to  marry  me  or  nobody,  that  he  would 
not  remain  in  Europe  after  this  rupture,  and  requested 
permission  to  serve  in  India  in  order  to  leave  France. 
I  should  be  guilty  of  telling  a  falsehood  if  I  were  to 
say  that  this  rupture  caused  me  no  pain.  I  spent 
more  than  one  sleepless  night  hesitating  between 
my  affection  and  my  duty.  You  will  allow  that  the 
fact  that  my  father  had  originally  given  his  consent 
was  calculated  to  strengthen  my  attachment ;  but  the 
subsequent  withdrawal  of  that  consent  caused  by  his 
respect  for  propriety  appealed  to  my  reason,  and  I 
felt  that  I  ought  to  submit  to  his  will." 

Did  the  old  hand  tremble  as  it  wrote  those 
words  ?  Did  the  memory  of  a  magic  hour  long  past 
cause  a  tear  to  fall  on  this  confession  ?  .  .  .  A  little 
farther  on  in  the  same  letter  she  says  :  "  I  afterwards 
made  a  very  unhappy  marriage.  And  yet  I  might 
have  been  happy  with  M.  Campan  if  he  had  not  been 
fickle,  extravagant,  and  entirely  unfitted  for  married 
life ;  had  my  parents  made  a  better  choice,  they 
might  have  been  instrumental  in  procuring  me  happi- 
ness. I  assure  you  that  during  those  twenty  years  of 
marriage,  love  of  duty  always  made  me  desire  to  live 
in  peace  with  my  husband  and  be  happy  with  him.  .  .  ." 

It  is  evident  that  the  man  whom  Henriette 
married  was  not  a  success ;  she  herself  scarcely 
mentions  him  in  her  memoirs,  and  when  she  does  so, 
c  33 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

it  is  in  reference  to  his  debts.  Mesdames  were  re- 
sponsible for  the  disaster ;  they,  probably  noticing 
that  their  little  lectrice  had  seemed  less  light-hearted 
since  the  departure  of  a  certain  friend,  set  about 
looking  for  a  husband  for  her.  The  king  having 
promised  to  allow  her  5000  livres  a  year,  she  was 
soon  provided.  Henriette  met  her  future  husband 
at  Court,  where  his  father,  besides  being  the  Dauphine  s 
secretary  and  librarian,  was  well  known  to  the  king, 
whom  he  had  often  accompanied  to  those  bah  ^  bouts 
de  chandelle  to  which  the  Bien-Aimd  was  so  partial 
during  several  winters.  These  balls  were  given  by 
what  Mme  Campan  calls  "the  last  rung  of  society." 
The  king  was  in  the  habit  of  inquiring  in  Carnival- 
time  whether  any  of  the  hairdressers,  milliners,  and 
small  shopkeepers  who  swarmed  at  Versailles  were 
likely  to  be  giving  entertainments  when,  masked  and 
accompanied  by  four  or  ^v^  members  of  his  house- 
hold also  masked,  he  would  appear  uninvited  at  his 
humble  subjects'  balls.  Of  course  everybody  guessed 
the  identity  of  the  stout  man  who  used  as  vulgar 
expressions  as  the  poorest  of  the  guests  at  these 
entertainments  lighted  by  spluttering  candle-ends — 
hence  their  name. 

The  Campans,  whose  real  name  was  Bertholet, 
originally  came  from  the  valley  of  Campan,  near 
Tarbes,  in  the  province  of  Bdarn.  Pierre  Bertholet, 
being  of  an  enterprising  disposition,  found  the  peace- 
ful native  valley  too  narrow  for  his  ambitions  ;  so 
after  completing  his  studies  at  Toulouse,  he  entered 
the  army  and  for  twenty  years  fought  for  the  lilies  of 
France,  winning  many  wounds  and  the  affection  and 
esteem  of  his  superior  officers.     He  had  one  especi- 

34 


HENRIETTE'S  HUSBAND 

ally  influential  friend  in  the  person  of  M.  Piris 
Duverney,  who  confided  to  him  divers  small  but 
lucrative  missions,  and,  at  the  time  of  Louis  xv's 
marriage  to  Marie  Leczinska,  obtained  for  M. 
Campan,  as  his  protdge  now  called  himself,  the  post 
of  page  of  the  back  stairs  to  the  young  queen.  This 
post,  which  he  shared  with  three  other  gentlemen, 
was  worth  about  9000  livres  a  year  besides  many 
perquisites,  and  was  very  much  to  M.  Campan's  taste. 
The  functions  of  the  four  pages  who  took  it  in  turn 
to  wait  upon  the  queen  for  a  fortnight  at  a  time,  were 
various :  they  had  to  wait  at  table  when  their  mistress 
dined  in  private,  and  to  carry  messages  to  her 
children  and  ladies,  and  they  had  always  to  be  on  the 
spot  to  hand  her  to  her  coach  when  she  went  out 
driving. 

Soon  after  obtaining  this  post,  M.  Campan 
married  Mile  Hardivilliers,  the  daughter  of  a  man 
of  good  family  who  had  once  been  wealthy  but  had 
squandered  all  his  fortune.  The  young  couple  had 
two  children,  one  son  and  one  daughter ;  the  latter 
died  in  infancy,  while  the  former,  after  receiving  a 
splendid  education  in  Paris  and  devoting  himself  for 
some  time  to  literature,  was  given  a  post  in  the  com- 
missariat. He  in  turn  married  and  had  one  son, 
Henriette's  future  husband. 

The  Dauphine  soon  began  to  treat  her  secretary 
and  librarian  with  such  confidence  that  the  Abb^  de 
Vermond,  one  of  the  future  queen's  many  bad  angels, 
became  jealous  of  the  Frenchman,  which  jealousy  the 
Dauphine  explained  to  her  secretary  in  the  following 
compliment : — 

"  The  Abbd,  my  dear  Campan,  does  not  love  you  ; 

35 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

he  did  not  think  that  I  should  find  on  my  arrival  in 
France  a  man  who  would  suit  me  as  perfectly  as 
you  do." 

As  we  have  already  seen,  the  young  Dauphine's 
education,  like  that  of  her  husband's  aunts,  left  much 
to  be  desired ;  she  found  music,  perhaps,  less  irksome 
than  any  other  study,  and  soon  after  her  marriage  she 
asked  M.  Campan  to  allow  his  son,  who  sang  very 
well,  to  give  her  singing-lessons  in  secret,  saying  as 
her  reason :  '*  The  Dauphine  must  be  careful  of  the 
archduchess's  reputation."  So  hard  did  she  work  that, 
at  the  end  of  three  months,  she  could  read  music  at 
sight  and  sang  so  well  that  she  astonished  the  professor 
who  had  first  been  called  in  to  instruct  her. 

Marie  Antoinette  cared  little  or  nothing  about 
literature  or  painting ;  so  bad  a  judge  was  she  that 
she  allowed  the  most  incompetent  artists  to  paint  her 
portrait — which  accounts,  perhaps,  for  the  hideous 
portraits  of  her  "  discovered  "  from  time  to  time — 
and  her  one  idea  when  she  went  to  the  Louvre  seemed 
to  be  to  get  away  as  soon  as  possible,  for  she  never  took 
the  trouble  to  examine  any  single  picture  in  detail. 

Although  Mesdames  were  frequently  at  variance 
with  their  nephew's  wife,  they  seem  to  have  agreed 
that  the  son  of  the  Dauphine's  secretary  and  librarian 
would  make  a  suitable  husband  for  their  little  lectrice  ; 
and  so  Henriette  Genest  was  given  in  marriage  to  the 
amateur  singing-master,  when  the  Dauphine  appointed 
the  bride  to  be  her  waiting-woman,  at  the  same  time 
permitting  her  to  retain  her  post  as  lectrice  to 
Mesdames. 

Mme  Campan  soon  found  that  her  advancement 
had  won  her  an  enemy  in  the  person  of  the  Abb^  de 

36 


AMATEUR  THEATRICALS 

Vermond ;  as  lecteur  to  the  Dauphine,  he  objected 
to  the  young  woman  reading  aloud  to  his  mistress. 
However,  the  latter's  passion  for  being  read  to  gave 
her  the  courage  to  insist  that  her  waiting- woman  should 
read  to  her  whenever  she  wished,  and  so  the  Abbd 
had  to  give  in.  The  Dauphine  learnt  to  prize  M. 
Campan's  services  during  those  first  years  of  married 
life,  for  she  found  him  and  his  son  invaluable  in  help- 
ing her  to  arrange  the  amateur  theatricals  with  which 
she  endeavoured  to  kill  time.  Now  the  Dauphine 
stood  in  considerable  awe  of  her  husband's  grandfather, 
and  did  not  wish  him  to  know  how  she  and  the  comtes 
d'Artois  and  de  Provence  amused  themselves.  How- 
ever, these  entertainments  came  to  an  untimely  end 
owing  to  the  following  adventure.  One  day  the 
Dauphine  told  M.  Campan  to  go  to  her  boudoir  and 
fetch  something  which  she  had  forgotten  ;  M.  Campan, 
dressed  as  a  crisping  with  his  face  highly  rouged,  was 
descending  the  secret  staircase  leading  to  the  boudoir 
when  he  thought  he  heard  somebody  following  him, 
so  he  quickly  slipped  behind  a  door — not  so  quickly 
but  that  somebody  heard  him  and  saw  him  disappear 
into  a  dark  corner.  Being  of  an  inquisitive  nature 
and  probably  suspecting  an  intrigue — they  were  of 
such  frequent  occurrence ! — the  amateur  detective 
pushed  the  door  open.  However,  he  was  unprepared 
for  the  grotesque  sight  which  met  his  gaze,  and  he  fell 
back  half  fainting  and  screaming  with  all  his  might. 
M.  Campan  picked  him  up  and,  begging  him  to  stop 
yelling  if  he  did  not  wish  to  bring  trouble  upon  himself 
and  others,  recommended  him  to  say  nothing  about 
his  fright.  On  hearing  of  the  incident,  the  Dauphine, 
*  Crispin  :  a  comic  part  played  by  a  footman  in  one  of  Moliere's  plays. 

37 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMP  AN 

fearing  lest  the  harmless  adventure  should  be  turned 
into  a  crime,  ceased  to  indulge  her  passion  for  amateur 
theatricals. 

Mme  Campan's  position  was  somewhat  painful  in 
that  she  more  frequently  heard  her  young  mistress 
blamed  than  praised.  The  Dauphine  had  at  first  tried 
to  live  in  peace  with  her  husband's  aunts,  but  she  soon 
found  that  she  was  hated  by  nearly  all  her  new  rela- 
tions :  Mesdames,  and  the  comtesses  de  Provence  and 
d'Artois  (the  latter  perhaps  had  good  cause  to  do  so) 
did  not  spare  her.  The  Abb6  Baudeau,  writing  in 
1774,  when  she  was  enjoying  her  new  title  of  queen, 
said  :  "  They  [Mesdames)  let  fly  red-hot  bullets  at  the 
queen.  It  is  all  the  fault  of  the  old  aunts,  who  are  ever 
on  the  war-path  ;  they  are  the  instigators  of  the 
detestable  satires  directed  against  her  person.  ..." 

When  their  nephew  protested  against  their  conduct, 
they  threatened  to  retire  to  Fontevrault — but  it  was 
only  an  idle  threat. 

Maria  Theresa  was  well  aware  of  Mesdames 
animosity  towards  her  daughter,  and  in  a  letter  to 
Mercy-Argenteau,  the  Austrian  Ambassador  at  the 
Court  of  Louis  xvi  and  Marie  Antoinette,  to  whom  he 
was  sincerely  attached,  begged  him  to  warn  her 
daughter  against  the  advice  of  Mesdames,  "who  had 
neither  won  the  affection  nor  the  respect  of  the  French 
nation." 

In  consequence  of  Mesdames  very  inimical  be- 
haviour towards  his  young  wife,  Louis  xvi,  notwith- 
standing the  fact  that  Madame  Adelaide  at  one  time 
had  exercised  considerable  influence  over  him,  hinted 
in  1775  that  his  aunts  had  better  retire  to  Bellevue, 
which  estate  they  accordingly  purchased  at  the  cost 

38 


MESDAMES  RETIRE  TO  BELLEVUE 

of  724,337  livres,  with  50,000  livres  compensation  to 
M.  de  Champcenetz,  the  owner,  for  being  turned  out 
of  his  house.  M.  le  comte  de  Fleury  in  his  Drames 
de  rkistoire  says  that  more  bishops  than  politicians 
were  seen  at  Bellevue ;  the  truth  was  that  Mesdames 
kept  a  very  good  table  and  possessed  a  cook  who 
excelled  in  the  art  of  making  insipid  Lenten  fare  taste 
as  delicious  as  any  other ;  indeed,  as  the  same  author 
expresses  it :  "He  was  renowned  even  in  Paris  for 
turning  fish  into  meat." 

When  Mesdames  retired  to  Bellevue,  M.  Campan 
p^re  was  given  the  post  of  master  of  the  wardrobe  to 
those  ladies ;  but  his  daughter-in-law,  as  waiting- 
woman  to  the  queen,  was  obliged  to  relinquish  the 
post  of  lectrice ;  she  must  have  regretted  her  first 
mistresses,  who,  although  often  harsh  and  disagreeable 
to  others,  had  never  been  otherwise  than  kind  and 
indulgent  to  her. 

Mme  Campan's  fellow  waiting- women  were  Mme 
de  Misery  and  Mme  la  comtesse  de  Noailles ;  the 
former  was  the  daughter  of  the  comte  de  Chamant 
and  was  related  to  the  de  Montmorency  family  through 
her  mother.  Like  Mme  de  Noailles  she  was  a  slave 
to  etiquette,  and  unfortunately  she  had  no  taste  in  the 
matter  of  dress  and  fashion.  When  her  term  of 
service  came,  Marie  Antoinette  used  laughingly  to 
say  to  her  ladies  :  ''  Now  you  must  look  out ;  here's  the 
empress-queen  coming !  "  Mme  Campan  relates  an 
amusing  scene  which  Mme  de  Noailles,  Madame 
I  Etiquette,  did  not  at  all  enjoy.  She  says  :  **  One  day 
I  unintentionally  put  this  poor  lady  to  a  terrible  amount 
of  suffering.  The  queen  was  receiving  somebody  or 
the   other — some  new   presentation,    I    think.      The 

39 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMP  AN 

maids  of  honour  and  the  ladies  of  the  palace  were 
standing  behind  her ;  I  was  close  to  her  bed  with  the 
two  other  waiting-women  then  on  duty.  Everything 
was  going  quite  smoothly  (at  least  I  thought  so)  when 
I  suddenly  noticed  that  Mme  de  Noailles  was  staring 
very  hard  at  me ;  she  nodded  her  head  and  then 
worked  her  eyebrows  up  and  down  at  a  furious  rate, 
all  the  while  making  signs  with  her  hands.  This 
extraordinary  pantomime  made  me  suspect  that  some- 
thing was  wrong ;  the  countess  became  still  more 
agitated  when  I  began  to  look  all  round  me  in  order 
to  find  out  what  was  the  matter.  The  queen,  noticing 
my  bewilderment,  looked  at  me  and  smiled  ;  I  then 
managed  to  get  near  her  Majesty,  who  whispered  to 
me  :  *  Unfasten  your  lappets  or  the  countess  will 
expire ! '  All  this  fuss  was  because  I  had  forgotten 
to  remove  the  two  pins  which  secured  my  lappets, 
whereas  the  ladies  that  day  had  been  commanded  to 
appear  with  their  lappets  unfastened." 

Mme  Campan,  according  to  Leonard,  the  queen's 
hairdresser,  must  have  been  a  very  taking  little  person 
at  that  time ;  he  speaks  of  her  pretty  face,  sparkling 
wit,  and  wonderful  conversational  gifts  which  study 
had  perfected  ;  he  gives  us  to  understand,  however, 
that  the  pretty  waiting-woman  encouraged  her  young 
mistress  to  be  extravagant,  for  he  says  : — 

**  She  was  always  careful  to  anticipate  the  queen's 
desires  and  never  troubled  herself  to  ask  the  price 
of  anything  ;  thanks  to  her  felicitous  and  numerous 
innovations  (which  I  and  Mile  Bertin^  seconded  to 

^  Rosa  Bertin  was  immensely  proud  of  the  fact  that  the  queen 
deigned  to  consult  her  opinion,  and  her  pride  was  still  more  increased 
by  the  favour  of  the  Empress  Josephine,  who  made  her  ministre  des  modes. 

40 


THE  DUCHESSE  DE  POLIGNAC 

the  best  of  our  ability)  her  Majesty's   extravagance 
soon  knew  no  bounds.  ..." 

We  find  Mme  Campan  during  the  Empire  accused, 
rightly  or  wrongly,  of  allowing  her  pupils  to  be 
extravagant  in  the  matter  of  dress. 

Notwithstanding  Marie  Antoinette's  love  of  pretty 
things,  she,  like  her  brother  Joseph  ii,  was  peculiarly 
averse  to  giving  presents  to  her  household ;  other 
persons,  however — the  duchesse  de  Polignac  for 
instance,  the  queen's  favourite — were  more  favoured. 
Mme  Campan  says  of  this  woman  : — 

*'  She  was  grace  personified  ;  she  did  not  care  for 
jewellery.  I  do  not  think  I  ever  saw  her  wear  her 
diamonds,  not  even  when  she  was  at  the  height  of 
her  good  fortune." 

Mme  Campan  was  less  lenient  to  the  queen's 
friend  when  she  wrote  many  years  later  to  the  duchesse 
de  Saint- Leu  : — 

"  The  queen  chose  as  her  favourite  the  amiable, 
naive  duchesse  de  Polignac,  who  lived  quite  openly 
with  M.  de  Vaudreuil ;  the  comtesse  Diane,  her  sister, 
was  known  to  have  several  lovers — so  little  did  people 
care  for  morality !  The  public  noticed  that,  although 
the  king  and  queen's  married  life  was  absolutely  blame- 
less, they  were  not  overburdened  with  scruples,  and  so 
advantage  was  taken  of  that  fact." 

The  Abb6  de  Vermond  looked  upon  Marie 
Antoinette's  friendship  for  the  duchesse  de  Polignac 
with  great  disfavour ;  jealousy,  or  perhaps  a  desire  to 
put  an  end  to  the  queen's  infatuation,  prompted  him 

After  Josephine's  death,  a  lady  went  to  Mile  Bertin's  establishment  and 
asked  to  be  shown  some  mourning  suitable  for  the  occasion,  whereupon 
Mile  Bertin  called  out  to  one  of  her  assistants  :  "  Show  Madame  some 
examples  of  my  last  work  with  her  Majesty." 

41 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

to  leave  Versailles  ;  whereupon  Marie  Antoinette,  who, 
at  that  time,  considered  that  she  still  had  need  of  his 
services,  sent  the  comte  de  Mercy-Argenteau  to 
persuade  him  to  return.  But  before  consenting  to  do 
so,  the  astute  ecclesiastic  submitted  to  the  queen  a 
long  list  of  conditions  which  she  must  fulfil  if  she 
wished  to  see  his  face  again  ;  after  reproaching  his 
royal  mistress  for  not  having  written  to  him  lately,  for 
her  foolish  intimacy  with  the  duchesse  de  Polignac 
and  for  allowing  that  woman's  family  to  exercise  bad 
influence  over  her ;  after  complaining  that  she  had 
begun  to  scorn  his  advice,  he  swore  that  he  himself 
was  devoid  of  all  personal  ambition,  that  he  only 
wanted  to  regain  her  confidence,  impressed  upon  her 
that  in  future  she  must  write  to  him  with  her  own 
hand,  and  then  ended  with  a  demand  that  she  would 
increase  his  salary  to  20,000  francs  ;  to  this  last  con- 
dition, the  most  important  of  all,  the  queen  must 
promise  to  consent  or  he  would  never  again  set  foot 
in  the  palace  of  Versailles.  He  got  his  own  way,  and 
was  back  in  his  old  place  before  another  week  had 
elapsed. 

Mme  Campan's  memoirs  do  not  contain  many 
references  to  the  queen's  extravagance,  which  was 
to  be  the  last  straw  on  the  back  of  the  long-suffering 
nation.  She  mentions,  however,  a  fete  given  by  the 
queen  at  the  Trianons  in  order  to  show  what  a 
different  view  people  take  of  the  same  event  according 
to  their  political  opinions. 

"The  queen,"  says  she,  ''twice  caused  her  little 
garden  at  Trianon  to  be  illuminated  ;  a  few  hundred 
miserable  bundles  of  faggots  were  burnt  in  the  ditches 
in  order  to  light  up  the  foliage  of  the  different  trees, 

42 


MME  CAMPAN'S  DUTIES 

but  the  Court  alone  was  admitted  to  these  fetes ; 
according  to  the  strange  rumours  which  were  spread 
abroad,  it  would  seem  as  if  every  forest  in  the  land 
had  been  burnt  down  and  the  entire  country  devas- 
tated. Why  ?  because  the  public  was  and  could  not 
be  admitted  to  these  entertainments.  .  .  .  Never  were 
so  many  fireworks  let  off  or  so  much  money  spent  on 
illuminations  as  during  the  Revolution  ;  those  fetes 
were  paid  for  with  the  nation's  money.  Did  anybody 
complain.'^     No,  because  the  public  shared  in  them." 

It  was  M.  Campan's  duty  to  organize  the  fetes  at 
the  Trianons,  and  right  regally  does  he  seem  to 
have  fulfilled  that  duty. 

Marie  Antoinette's  extravagance  displayed  itself 
more  in  a  passion  for  jewellery  and  rich  furniture  than 
in  fine  clothes.  She  usually  had  twelve  new  Court- 
dresses  made  at  the  beginning  of  the  winter,  twelve 
simpler  costumes,  and  twelve  dresses  with  panniers 
which  she  wore  in  the  evening  when  playing  cards  or 
supping  in  her  private  apartments.  The  same  number 
of  dresses  was  ordered  for  summer  wear.  At  the  end 
of  each  season  her  wardrobe  was  overhauled  and  two 
or  three  costumes  given  away.  As  waiting-woman  to 
Marie  Antoinette,  it  was  Mme  Campan's  duty  to  see 
that  her  mistress's  wardrobe  was  kept  in  order. 

Marie  Antoinette's  extravagance  pales  before 
Josephine's  mania  for  buying  new  clothes ;  for  the 
latter,  while  still  only  the  wife  of  the  First  Consul, 
owed  her  tradespeople  the  sum  of  1,200,000  francs. 
Did  she  not  possess  six  hundred  costumes  at  one 
time  ?  and  were  not  thirty  new  bonnets  ordered  every 
month  ?  She  practised  no  economy  where  dress  was 
concerned,  whereas  Mme  Campan  tells  us  that   her 

43 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

mistress  made  her  spring  costumes  serve  again   for 
the  autumn. 

M.  Campan  plre  had  given  his  daughter-in-law 
some  very  excellent  advice  soon  after  she  entered  the 
young  Dauphine's  service  ;  after  recommending  her 
to  avoid  trying  to  obtain  her  mistress's  confidence,  a 
dangerous  trust,  he  said  : — 

*   *'  Serve  her  with  zeal  and  intelligence,  and  always 
be  quick  to  obey." 

Mme  Campan  soon  discovered  that  she  possessed 
considerable  influence  over  her  young  mistress  ;  the 
queen  treated  her  as  her  equal — the  CEil  de  Boeuf^, 
she  says,  knew  it  and  hated  her  accordingly.  What 
was  more  natural  than  that  Mme  Campan  should 
endeavour  to  turn  the  queen's  thoughts  to  something 
less  frivolous  than  amateur  theatricals,  dances,  and 
masquerades  ?  She  would  plead  for  some  unfortunate 
family,  or  beg  for  advancement  for  some  deserving 
workman.  Good  M.  Campan /^r^  tried  in  the  follow- 
ing words  to  persuade  the  queen  to  cease  reading 
those  insipid  and  ofttimes  harmful  novels  which  were 
then  the  fashion  in  France,  a  fashion  which  like  a 
good  many  others  equally  foolish  had  come  from 
across  the  water  : — 

"What  can  your  Majesty  possibly  learn  from 
those  wretched  books?"  said  he.  "Milord  Lindsay's 
passion  for  the  orphan  Anna,  their  meeting  at  a 
wayside  inn,  the  tribulations  of  the  young  miss,  the 
picture  of  middle-class  society,  the  account  of  a  masked 
ball,  an  adventure  with  a  rope-ladder,  a  conflagration, 

1  (Ell  de  Bceuf  \  an  anteroom  in  the  palace  of  Versailles,  so  called 
from  its  round  window ;  it  was  a  favourite  meeting-place  for  courtiers 
and  place-seekers. 

44 


THE  QUEEN'S  FRIVOLOUS  TASTES 

an  elopement,  a  shipwreck,  persecuted  lovers?  .  .  . 
Read  rather,  Madame,  of  the  prosperity,  of  the  good 
deeds,  of  the  misfortunes  and  of  the  faults  of  sovereigns  ; 
make  these  a  daily  study.  .  .  .  History,  of  which  men 
(and  especially  women)  usually  only  talk  in  order  to 
show  off  their  learning,  ought  to  be  the  sovereign's 
Bible  ;  it  should  be  read  every  day ;  every  page,  as  a 
truth  born  of  experience,  should  be  engraved  on  the 
mind  as  a  useful  and  most  valuable  possession." 

To  this  long  rigmarole  the  queen  listened  atten- 
tively and  with  docility  ;  she  then  replied  : — 

"  You  are  quite  right.  Monsieur,  let  us  read  history 
at  once.  Let  us  begin  with  Roman  history  ;  another 
day  we  will  read  Anacharsis  or  some  French  history." 

Alas  for  good  resolutions !  on  the  morrow,  M. 
Campan  invariably  found,  on  presenting  himself  before 
the  queen,  that  she  had  changed  her  mind  and  was 
engrossed  in  some  trashy  novel  in  five  or  six  volumes 
lately  translated  into  French  for  her  especial  edifica- 
tion ;  she  would  say  in  an  off-hand  manner : — 

**  Do  not  come  to-morrow,  for  I  am  reading  a  book 
which  I  want  to  enjoy  all  by  myself." 

Years  afterwards  Mme  Campan,  probably  thinking 
of  Marie  Antoinette,  wrote  to  Hortense  de  Beau- 
harnais : — 

''  I  have  good  reason  to  hate  novels ;  they  nearly 
ruined  a  woman  who,  with  her  natural  good  sense  and 
her  elevated  mind,  might  have  saved  France  and  left 
the  greatest  name  to  posterity.  I  begged  her  on  my 
knees,  with  tears  in  my  eyes,  to  give  up  this  fatal 
habit ;  but  she  could  not  break  herself  of  it." 


45 


CHAPTER   III 

The  duties  of  the  queen's  waiting-woman — A  day  at  Versailles — Marie 
Antoinette  adopts  a  little  peasant-boy — Birth  of  the  queen's  eldest 
child — Mesmer  pays  a  visit  to  Paris — M.  Campan  tries  one  of  the 
famous  physician's  cures — Birth  of  the  first  Dauphin — Indiscreet 
well-wishers — The  young  mother  receives  a  deputation  from  the 
ladies  of  the  Paris  markets — The  comtes  d'Haga  and  du  Nord  pay 
a  visit  to  Versailles — Madame  Royale  goes  to  see  her  great-aunt 
Louise. 

Mme  Campan's  place  as  waiting- woman  to  the  queen 
was  no  sinecure ;  she  had  to  supervise  the  other 
waiting-women,  to  receive  her  royal  mistress's  orders, 
to  superintend  her  toilet,  order  her  carriages,  and 
prepare  for  the  few,  short  journeys  taken  by  the 
Court.  Not  only  did  the  queen's  chief  waiting- 
woman  have  charge  of  her  Majesty's  jewels  and 
privy-purse,  but  she  had  to  pay  the  numerous  suite 
and  to  reply  to  the  still  more  numerous  troop  of 
beggars  of  all  ages  and  all  classes  and  to  content 
everybody.  She  had  to  take  the  place  of  any  absent 
lady-in-waiting,  and  as  such  she  had  to  usher  the 
queen's  visitors  into  her  Majesty's  presence. 

It  is  amusing  to  learn  from  her  memoirs  that 
Mme  Campan's  salary  of  1 2,000  francs  a  year  was 
considerably  augmented  by  the  sale  of  the  candles 
used  to  light  Marie  Antoinette's  private  apartments, 
a  nice  little  perquisite  representing  the  sum  of  38,000 
francs  a  year,  which  candles  she,  as  chief  waiting- 

46 


THE  DUTIES  OF  A  WAITING- WOMAN 

woman,  had  the  right  to  take  away  every  evening 
whether  they  had  been  lighted  or  not.  But  it  was 
not  until  Mme  Campan  had  been  some  years  in  the 
queen  s  service  that  she  and  her  sister,  Adelaide 
Augui4  also  waiting-woman  to  Marie  Antoinette, 
were  allowed  to  dispose  of  their  mistress's  discarded 
clothing  to  their  friends — another  and  a  still  more 
valuable  perquisite.  Adelaide  Auguie  was  almost  as 
great  a  favourite  with  Marie  Antoinette  as  her  sister ; 
the  queen  had  given  her  7000  francs  and  some  valu- 
able jewels  at  the  time  of  her  marriage  to  M.  Augui6, 
a  commissary-general  of  subsistence  in  the  army,  with 
a  promise  to  the  bridegroom  of  advancement ;  this 
promise  was  soon  after  fulfilled,  for  M.  Augui^  was 
given  the  receiver-generalship  of  the  duchy  of  Bar 
and  Lorraine,  a  post  worth  nearly  100,000  francs  a 
year. 

Mme  Campan  describes  her  duties  in  the  following 
words  : — 

'*  The  queen  was  usually  called  at  eight  o'clock  in 
the  morning  and  breakfasted  at  nine  either  in  bed  or 
sitting  on  a  sofa  with  a  little  table  by  her  side.  Her 
Majesty  frequently  received  visitors  at  this  time ;  her 
doctor,  her  chief  surgeon,  her  reader,  her  secretary, 
the  king's  four  principal  footmen  and  his  physicians 
and  surgeons,  had  the  right  to  be  admitted  to  her 
presence ;  there  were  often  ten  or  twelve  persons 
present. 

"It  was  the  duty  of  the  lady-in-waiting  to  arrange 
the  queen's  breakfast  on  her  bed  or  by  her  sofa  ;  the 
princesse  de  Lamballe^  very  frequently  fulfilled  this 

^  The  friend  of  Marie  Antoinette  and  one  of  the  victims  of  the 
September  massacres. 

47 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

duty  when  she  happened  to  be  present.  The  queen's 
abstemiousness  was  remarkable  ;  she  either  had  coffee 
or  chocolate  for  breakfast ;  she  ate  nothing  but  white 
meat  at  dinner,  only  drank  water  and  supped  off  a 
plate  of  soup,  a  chicken  wing,  and  a  glass  of  water  in 
which  she  used  to  dip  little  biscuits.  .  ,  .  The  queen 
having  got  out  of  bed,  the  mistress  of  the  wardrobe 
was  admitted  that  she  might  take  away  the  pillows 
and  prepare  the  bed  for  the  footmen  to  make.  She 
then  drew  the  curtains,  leaving  the  bed  to  be  made 
when  the  queen  had  gone  to  Mass.  This  same  lady 
prepared  the  water  for  washing  the  queen  s  feet  when 
her  Majesty  did  not  take  a  bath.  Except  when  she 
was  at  Saint-Cloud,  where  she  had  a  bathroom  ad- 
joining her  bedroom,  the  queen  used  a  sabot^  which 
was  rolled  in  and  out  of  her  room ;  after  the  bath  the 
queen's  waiting- women  entered.  The  queen  took 
her  bath  clad  in  a  long  chemise  of  English  flannel 
buttoned  down  to  the  hem,  with  collar  and  cuffs  lined 
with  soft  linen.  On  getting  out  of  her  bath,  the  chief 
lady-in-waiting  held  a  sheet  so  as  to  conceal  her 
Majesty  from  the  waiting-women,  and  then  flung  it 
over  the  queen's  shoulders.  The  bathing-women 
having  rolled  her  up  in  it,  she  was  carefully  dried ; 
she  then  put  on  a  very  long,  loose-fitting  night-dress, 
richly  trimmed  with  lace,  and  a  white  silk  dressing- 
gown.  The  waiting-women  having  warmed  the  bed, 
the  queen  thus  clad  lay  down  in  bed  again,  and  the 
bathing-women  and  footmen  removed  the  sabot.  On 
the  days  when  the  queen  took  a  bath,  she  always  ate 
her  breakfast  while  in  her  bath.     It  was  the  maid-of- 

^  Sabot :  a  bath  shaped  like  a  huge  shoe  ;  see  prints  of  the  assassina- 
tion of  Marat. 

48 


A  VICTIM  TO  ETIQUETTE 

honour's  duty  when  her  Majesty  did  not  have  a  bath, 
to  pour  out  the  water  for  her  to  wash  her  hands  and 
to  put  her  chemise  over  her  head  ;  this  duty  she  re- 
linguished  whenever  a  princess  belonging  to  the  royal 
family  happened  to  be  present,  in  which  case  she 
handed  the  chemise  to  the  chief  lady-in-waiting,  who 
then  presented  it  to  the  princess.  .  .  .  The  queen 
happened  one  cold  winter's  day  to  be  already  un- 
dressed and  about  to  put  on  her  chemise ;  I  was 
holding  it  out  to  her  when  a  maid-of-honour  entered, 
tore  off  her  gloves  and  took  the  chemise  from  my 
hands.  Somebody  was  heard  knocking  at  the  door  ; 
it  was  opened  and  Mme  la  duchesse  d'Orleans 
entered  ;  she  immediately  took  off  her  gloves  and 
advanced  in  order  to  take  the  chemise ;  however,  as 
it  was  not  the  maid-of-honour's  place  to  give  it  into 
her  hands,  she  gave  it  to  me  and  I  presented  it  to  the 
princess.  Again  somebody  was  heard  knocking  at 
the  door ;  this  time  it  was  Mme  la  comtesse  de 
Provence,  whereupon  the  duchess  presented  the 
chemise  to  her.  Meanwhile  the  queen  was  standing 
with  her  arms  crossed  over  her  chest  and  seemed  to 
be  feeling  very  cold.  Madamey  seeing  how  uncom- 
fortable her  Majesty  looked,  forebore  to  waste  more 
time  by  removing  her  gloves  and  merely  dropped  her 
handkerchief;  in  putting  the  chemise  over  the  queen's 
head,  she  pulled  the  latter's  hair  down,  whereupon 
her  Majesty  began  to  laugh  in  order  to  hide  her 
annoyance,  while  she  muttered  between  her  teeth  : — 

"'How    odious!     what    a    horrible    fuss    about 
nothing ! ' 

"  The  queen's  official  toilet  took  place  at  midday. 
The  dressing-table  was  pushed   into  the  middle  of 
D  49 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

the  room  ;  this  piece  of  furniture  was  usually  the 
handsomest  and  most  ornamented  in  the  royal 
apartment.  .  .  . 

"The  queen  slept  in  a  bodice  trimmed  with 
ribbon,  the  sleeves  were  covered  with  lace  and  there 
was  a  lace  fichu.  The  queen's  dressing-gown  was 
presented  to  her  by  her  chief  waiting-woman  if  she 
happened  to  be  alone  ;  or  if  the  maids-of-honour  were 
present,  that  duty  devolved  upon  them.  At  midday 
those  ladies  who  had  waited  upon  the  queen  for  the 
last  twenty-four  hours  were  relieved  by  two  waiting- 
women  in  full  dress.  Anybody  having  the  grande 
entree  was  now  admitted  ;  folding-stools  were  brought 
and  placed  in  a  circle  for  the  superintendent,  the 
maids-of-honour,  and  the  governess  of  the  Children  of 
France  when  she  happened  to  be  present. 

"  The  duties  of  the  ladies  of  the  palace,  which  did 
not  include  any  menial  services,  only  commenced 
when  the  queen  left  her  private  apartments  in  order 
to  go  to  Mass ;  these  ladies  waited  in  the  large  study 
and  entered  when  her  toilet  was  completed.  The 
princes  of  the  blood  royal,  the  officers  of  the  king's 
body-guard,  and  other  officials  paid  their  respects  to 
the  queen  while  her  hair  was  being  dressed.  The 
queen  either  nodded  her  head,  bowed  slightly,  or  else 
bent  over  her  toilet-table  when  any  princes  of  the 
blood  entered.  The  king's  brothers  usually  came  to 
pay  their  duty  to  her  Majesty  at  this  moment. 
During  the  first  years  of  her  reign  she  dressed  in  her 
bedroom,  that  is  to  say  the  maid-of-honour  helped  the 
queen  to  put  on  her  chemise  and  poured  out  the 
water  for  her  to  wash  her  hands.  But  when  the 
young  queen  began  to  pay  more  attention  to  fashion, 

50 


SOME  IMPOLITE  VISITORS 

when  head-dresses  became  so  high  that  ladies  had  to 
step  into  their  chemises  ;  when,  in  short,  she  wished 
Mile  Bertin  to  attend  at  her  toilet  (Mile  Bertin,  to 
whom  the  queen's  ladies  had  refused  the  honour  of 
attending  their  mistress),  her  Majesty  ceased  to  dress 
in  her  bedroom.  So,  having  courtesied  to  all  the 
company,  the  queen  would  retire  to  her  dressing-room 
to  finish  her  toilet.  .  .  ." 

Marie  Antoinette's  first  years  of  married  life  were 
clouded  by  the  fact  that  she  had  borne  her  husband 
no  children.  When,  in  1775,  she  had  to  assist  at  the 
accouchement  of  her  sister-in-law,  the  comtesse 
d'Artois,  whose  marriage  was  of  more  recent  date 
than  her  own,  she  had  a  very  unpleasant  experience, 
for,  on  coming  out  of  the  young  mother's  room,  she 
ran  into  the  arms  of  a  deputation  of  fishwives,  who 
pursued  her  to  her  own  apartments,  making  uncom- 
plimentary remarks  concerning  her  unwillingness  or 
inability  to  supply  an  heir  to  the  throne.  The 
comtesse  d'Artois  became  quite  popular,  only  for  a 
time,  however,  for  she  was  generally  insignificant  and 
had  no  pretensions  to  beauty,  her  rather  fresh  com- 
plexion being  spoilt  by  a  long  thin  nose. 

Marie  Antoinette  proved  herself  in  the  day  of 
trouble  far  too  good  a  mother  not  to  have  been 
endowed  with  similar  feelings  to  those  which  had 
made  the  little  Henriette  Genest  long  to  play  the 
mother  to  all  the  babies  she  happened  to  know. 
Mme  Campan  tells  us  that  Marie  Antoinette,  until 
she  had  children  of  her  own,  was  in  the  habit  of 
petting  and  spoiling  her  servants'  children.  Still  she 
was  not  content ;  and  while  looking  about  for  a 
suitable  child  to  adopt  as  her  own,  a  happy  accident 

51 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMP  AN 

enabled  her  to  find  what  she  was  looking  for.  Mme 
Campan  relates  the  incident  as  follows  : — 

''  One  day,  while  the  queen  was  driving  through 
the  village  of  Saint-Michel  near  Luciennes,  a  pretty, 
blue-eyed,  fair-haired,  litde  child  of  four  years  of  age, 
the  picture  of  health,  ran  in  front  of  her  horses. 
When  the  coachman  and  the  postillions  had  stopped 
the  carriage  and  dragged  the  child  from  beneath  the 
horses'  hoofs,  it  was  discovered  that  he  had  not  got 
so  much  as  a  scratch.  His  grandmother  rushed  to  the 
door  of  her  cottage  in  order  to  fetch  him,  but  the 
queen,  standing  up  in  her  carriage,  stretched  out  her 
arms  towards  the  old  peasant  woman,  crying  that  the 
child  must  belong  to  her,  that  Fate  had  given  him  to 
her  to  comfort  her,  doubtless,  until  she  had  a  child  of 
her  own. 

"  *  Is  his  mother  alive  ?*  asked  she. 

"  •  No,  Madame,'  replied  the  peasant- woman,  *  my 
daughter  died  last  winter,  leaving  me  with  five  little 
children  to  feed.' 

**  *  I  will  take  this  one  and  see  that  the  others  do 
not  want  for  anything.  Do  you  consent  ? '  asked  the 
queen. 

**  *  Oh  !  Madame,  they  will  be  only  too  happy,'  was 
the  answer ;  '  but  Jacques  is  a  very  naughty  boy  : 
will  he  stay  with  you  ? ' 

**  The  queen  took  little  Jacques  on  her  knee,  said 
that  he  would  soon  get  accustomed  to  her,  and  ordered 
her  coachman  to  drive  on.  The  drive  came  to  a 
sudden  end,  so  frightfully  did  Jacques  scream  and  so 
lustily  did  he  kick  the  queen  and  her  ladies.  Marie 
Antoinette's  household  at  Versailles  was  much 
astonished    when    she    appeared    holding    the   little 

52 


LITTLE  JACQUES  IS  REBAPTIZED 

village  brat  by  the  hand  ;  he  yelled  with  all  his  might, 
bawled  out  that  he  wanted  his  grandam,  his  brother 
Louis,  his  sister  Marianne ;  nothing  silenced  him. 
He  was  carried  to  the  wife  of  one  of  the  queen's 
servants,  who  was  to  be  his  nurse.  The  other  children 
were  boarded  out.  Two  days  later  little  Jacques, 
now  called  Armand,  was  brought  to  see  the  queen  :  a 
white,  lace-trimmed  frock,  a  pink  sash  with  a  silver 
fringe  and  a  hat  covered  with  plumes  had  taken  the 
place  of  the  worsted  cap,  red  petticoat,  and  wooden 
shoes.  The  child  was  really  very  beautiful.  The 
queen  was  delighted ;  he  came  to  see  her  every 
morning  at  nine  o'clock,  and  breakfasted  and  dined 
with  her  when  the  king  was  often  present.  Though 
nobody  ever  heard  her  give  vent  to  the  regret  with 
which  her  heart  was  filled,  she  loved  to  fondle  him 
and  call  him  'my  child.  .  .  .'" 

When  in  1778  these  futile  attempts  to  appease 
her  maternal  instincts  were  rendered  unnecessary  by 
the  knowledge  that  she  would  soon  have  a  child  of 
her  own,  poor  little  Jacques^  and  his  brothers  and 
sisters  were  as  completely  forgotten  as  if  they  had 
never  existed.  Royalty  soon  wearies  of  its  pup- 
pets. 

A  few  days  before  the  birth  of  Marie  Antoinette's 
first  child,  the  Court  was  amazed  by  the  discovery  of 
a  bundle  of  libellous  songs  concerning  the  queen's 
favourites  which  somebody  had  flung  through  the 
CEil  de  Bo3uf.    A  fortnight  later  the  writer's  name  was 

^  Jacques  showed  that  he,  too,  had  a  short  memory  when  he  became 
one  of  Marie  Antoinette's  most  bitter  enemies.  Having  volunteered 
during  the  Revolution  to  defend  his  fatherland,  he  was  killed  at  the 
battle  of  Jemappes  ( 1 792). 

53 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMP  AN 

in  everybody's  mouth  :  it  was  M.  de  Champcenetz,^ 
from  whom  Mesdames  had  purchased  the  estate  of 
Bellevue.  However,  everything  is  forgiven  to  a  wag, 
and  his  crime  was  soon  forgotten. 

The  nation  had  expressed  great  delight  at  the 
thought  that  the  queen  was  about  to  provide  an  heir 
to  the  throne  of  France  ;  so  when  it  was  known  that 
the  long-expected  child  was  a  girl,  the  future  Orphan 
of  the  Temple,  many  persons  were  genuinely  dis- 
appointed. The  queen  was  in  much  danger  at  one 
time,  and  it  was  feared  that  she  would  lose  her  life. 
The  comte  d'Esterhazy  and  the  prince  de  Poix  had 
worked  themselves  up  into  such  a  state  of  nervousness 
and  excitement  that  when  Mme  Campan  came  to 
inform  them  that  the  queen  was  no  longer  in  danger, 
they  fell  upon  her  neck  and  kissed  her  with  tears 
running  down  their  pale  faces. 

The  France  of  those  days  was  scarcely  less 
superstitious  than  her  neighbours,  Spain  and  Italy. 
Soon  after  the  queen  had  begun  to  resume  her  daily 
habits,  M.  Campan  pere  received  a  letter  from  the 
curd  of  the  Madeleine  asking  him  to  fix  a  secret 
interview.  During  that  interview  M.  Campan  was 
much  astonished  to  see  the  curd  hand  him  a  little  box 
containing  a  wedding  ring,  with  a  request  that  he 
would  give  it  to  the  queen  in  secret  and  adding : 
"  While  hearing  a  confession  I  received  this  ring,  the 
queen's  wedding  ring,  which  was  stolen  from  her  in 
1 77 1  by  somebody  who  wished  to  bewitch  her  and 
prevent  her  bearing  children." 

^  When  M.  de  Champcenetz  was  arrested  and  dragged  before  the 
revolutionary  tribunal,  he  asked,  on  hearing  himself  sentenced  to  death, 
whether  he  could  not  find  somebody  to  take  his  place. 

54 


MESMER  VISITS  PARIS 

M.  Campan  was  still  more  astonished  when,  on 
returning  the  ring  to  the  queen,  she  told  him  that  she 
had  lost  it  seven  years  ago  while  washing  her  hands, 
but  that  suspecting  the  reason  for  which  it  had  been 
stolen,  she  had  refrained  from  endeavouring  to  trace 
the  thief  lest  she  should  be  thought  superstitious. 

Among  the  famous  persons  who  flocked  to  Paris 
about  this  time  was  Mesmer,  who  first  became  known 
to  the  world  as  the  author  of  the  work,  De  planetarum 
influxu,  published  while  he  was  in  Vienna,  where  he 
had  amazed  everybody  by  his  theories  concerning 
animal  magnetism.  His  appearance  in  the  French 
capital  was  hailed  with  delight  by  a  crowd  of  idle  folk 
keen  for  any  new  sensation.  The  Faculty,  however, 
at  first  received  his  attempts  to  show  what  power  the 
mind  exercises  over  diseases  of  the  body  with  derision, 
for  which,  as  he  foolishly  made  a  mystery  of  his 
magnetic  power,  which  he  called  his  ** secret"  and 
refused  to  sell  to  the  government  for  the  sum  of 
20,000  livreSy  he  was  partly  responsible.  His  **tub 
treatment "  was  undoubtedly  a  precursor  of  the 
electrical  baths  of  to-day. 

Mesmer,  tall,  handsome,  with  the  imposing  manner 
and  the  deep-set  eye  of  the  born  mesmerist,  became 
the  talk  of  the  day.  On  first  setting  up  in  Paris,  he 
treated  the  poor  gratuitously,  and  then  began  with  a 
few  paying  patients  whom  he  consented  to  tend  in 
his  own  splendidly  furnished  apartment  for  ten  louis 
a  month.  He  soon  raised  his  terms,  however,  where- 
upon his  patients  grew  more  and  more  numerous. 
One  of  the  forms  of  treatment  consisted  of  the  famous 
baquets  or  tubs ;  the  patients  were  seated  in  a  circle 
round  a  covered  tub  from  which  protruded  a  number 

55 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

of  ropes  and  wires  which  could  be  moved  in  any 
direction  ;  the  ropes  having  been  fastened  round  the 
patients'  bodies,  they  were  instructed  to  seize  hold  of 
the  wires  and  apply  them  to  any  painful  spot.  At  a 
given  signal  the  patients  dropped  the  wires  and  joined 
hands :  this  was  called  **  making  a  chain."  The 
treatment  was  carried  on  in  a  darkened  room  to  the 
accompaniment  of  hidden  music  and  was  interrupted 
by  frequent  fits  of  hysterics  among  the  patients. 
A  prolonged  sdance  usually  ended  with  a  chorus  of 
insane  laughter  and  yells  of  agony. 

The  baquets  were  as  numerous  as  the  diseases 
which  they  were  supposed  to  cure  :  they  included  not 
only  la  femme  baquet  and  rhomnie  baquet,  but  also 
le  cheval  baquet^  le  chien  baquet^  la  poule  baquet,  le 
mouton  baquet,  fdne  baquet ;  there  were  likewise 
"moral"  and  ** vicious  tubs,"  warranted  to  cure 
diseases  of  the  soul. 

Mme  Campan's  husband  happened  to  be  in  poor 
health  at  the  time  of  Mesmer's  appearance  in  the 
French  capital ;  she  gives  her  own  experience  of 
Mesmer's  methods  of  curing  disease  in  the  following 
amusing  anecdote : — 

**  My  husband,  like  many  another  who  wanted  to 
be  in  the  fashion,  was  a  partisan  of  Mesmer.  It  was 
quite  the  thing  to  be  magnetized  ;  it  was  more  than  a 
craze,  it  was  a  mania.  One  heard  of  nothing  in  the 
Paris  salons  but  this  brilliant  discovery  ;  people  were 
to  live  for  ever.  The  public  went  quite  crazy  and  im- 
agined all  sorts  of  ridiculous  things;  everybody  wanted 
to  have  his  or  herself  mesmerized.  Mesmer's  peculiar 
phraseology  had  produced  this  strange  state  of  affairs. 
The  only  way  to  put  a  stop  to  the  craze  was  to  get 

56 


A  STRANGE  CURE 

the  Court  to  buy  the  secret,  on  which  its  owner  had 
placed  an  extremely  high  price ;  50,000  dcus  had 
already  been  offered.  By  a  very  strange  chance  I 
happened  one  day  to  find  myself  at  one  of  these 
stances  of  somnambulism :  so  great  was  the  enthusiasm 
of  the  numerous  spectators  that  many  of  them  rolled 
their  eyes  and  made  hideous  faces ;  a  stranger  might 
have  thought  himself  in  a  lunatic  asylum.  Astonished 
to  see  so  many  persons  almost  delirious,  I  retired  in 
disgust. 

**  My  husband  was  suffering  at  that  time  from 
inflammation  of  the  lungs ;  he  had  himself  taken  to 
Mesmer  s  house.  When  I  entered  M.  Campan's  sick- 
room, I  asked  the  thaumaturgus  what  treatment  he 
proposed  to  prescribe.  He  replied  with  the  greatest 
coolness  that,  in  order  to  obtain  a  prompt  and 
permanent  cure,  he  must  place  either  a  dark-haired 
young  woman,  a  black  hen,  or  an  empty  botde  in  the 
sick  man's  bed  next  his  heart. 

"  *  Monsieur,'  said  I,  'if  it  is  all  the  same  to  you, 
I  should  prefer  the  empty  bottle.' 

**  The  illness  made  rapid  strides ;  the  patient's 
breathing  became  laboured,  his  chest  was  sore  ;  the 
magnetic  cures  had  no  effect.  Mesmer,  perceiving 
that  his  patient  was  no  better,  seized  the  opportunity 
when  I  happened  to  be  absent  from  the  sick-room  in 
order  to  put  blisters  on  the  invalid  ;  I  was  not  in- 
formed of  this  fact  until  the  latter  was  well  again.  M. 
Campan  was  later  asked  to  write  a  testimonial  stating 
that  he  had  been  cured  by  magnetism  alone ;  he  did 
so.  This  act  shows  to  what  lengths  an  enthusiast 
will  go ;  truth  has  no  power  over  such  a  person.  On 
returning  to  the  palace,  their  Majesties  asked  me  what 

57 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

I  thought  of  Mesmer's  discovery ;  I  told  them  what 
had  happened,  and  expressed  my  indignation  at  such  a 
shameless  charlatan.  It  was  immediately  decided  that 
no  more  was  to  be  said  about  buying  the  secret.  ..." 

When  in  1781  the  queen  had  fresh  hopes  of 
becoming  a  mother,  her  joy  knew  no  bounds.  Mme 
Campan,  although  delighted  at  her  royal  mistress's 
good  spirits,  was  sometimes  tempted  to  curb  her,  at 
least  so  Leonard,  the  queen's  hairdresser,  tells  us. 

*'  One  morning  before  the  birth  of  the  queen's 
second  child,"  says  he,  "  I  found  her  Majesty  in 
such  a  good  humour  that  I  ventured  to  make  one 
or  two  diverting  remarks  while  I  was  dressing  her 
hair.  Mme  Campan  began  making  signs  to  me  to 
stop  my  ceaseless  flow  of  conversation,  but  Marie 
Antoinette  laughed  until  the  tears  came  into  her  eyes 
and  said : — 

"  *  Go  on,  Leonard,  go  on  ;  how  very  amusing  ! '  " 

And,  nothing  loath,  Leonard  begins,  notwithstand- 
ing Mme  Campan's  frowns  and  signs  to  cease,  one  of 
those  so-called  witty  but  in  reality  highly  indecorous 
anecdotes  with  which  his  memoirs  are  filled,  and  this 
to  the  queen's  evident  satisfaction. 

With  what  delight  did  Louis  xvi  learn  on  October 
22,  1 78 1,  that  his  wife  had  given  him  the  longed-for 
heir.  Mme  Campan  witnessed  his  joy ;  she  tells  us 
how  the  tears  streamed  from  his  eyes  whenever  he 
looked  at  the  baby,  whom  he  was  never  tired  of 
calling  "my  son"  and  "the  Dauphin,"  and  about 
whom  he  would  talk  whenever  he  could  find  somebody 
willing  to  listen  to  him,  how  he  wanted  to  shake  hands 
with  everybody,  and  how  this  newly  found  happiness 
completely  changed  his  somewhat  reserved  character. 

58 


THE  BIRTH  OF  THE  FIRST  DAUPHIN 

One  of  the  happiest  results  of  the  child's  birth  was 
that  it  not  only  brought  the  parents  nearer  together, 
but  it  also  gave  satisfaction  to  a  certain  portion  of  the 
nation.  That  satisfaction,  however,  like  the  little 
one's  life,  was  of  short  duration. 

Mme  Campan  paints  an  interesting  picture  of 
how  the  Parisians  manifested  their  pleasure  on  this 
occasion  : — 

"The  different  corporations  of  Paris  spent  consider- 
able sums  on  expeditions  to  Versailles  ;  their  arrival, 
clad  in  elegant  habiliments  and  carrying  their  different 
emblems,  made  a  very  pleasant  scene  ;  nearly  all  of 
them  had  bands  marching  at  their  head.  On  entering 
the  courtyard  of  the  palace  they  displayed  much  intelli- 
gence in  the  way  in  which  they  arranged  themselves 
in  groups.  Chimney-sweeps,  as  finely  dressed  as  any 
stage  chimney-sweep,  bore  a  highly  decorated  chimney 
on  the  top  of  which  one  of  their  smallest  members 
was  perched  ;  chairmen  carried  a  much  gilded  sedan- 
chair  in  which  sat  a  beautiful  nounou  holding  a  little 
Dauphin  in  her  lap ;  the  butchers  appeared  with  their 
fat  ox  ;  the  pastry-cooks,  the  bricklayers,  the  lock- 
smiths— all  trades  were  represented  ;  the  farriers  were 
striking  on  an  anvil ;  the  shoemakers  were  making  a 
little  pair  of  boots  for  the  Dauphin,  the  tailors  a  little 
regimental  uniform.  ..." 

The  king  watched  the  scene  from  his  balcony, 
that  same  balcony  upon  which  Marie  Antoinette 
stood  eight  years  later  and  heard  that  horrible  cry  : 
'*  No  children!" 

But  what  malcontent,  fatalist,  or  philosopher 
prompted  the  Paris  grave-diggers  to  send  a  deputa- 
tion bearing  a  tiny  coffin,   two  spades,  and  a  little 

59 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

tombstone?  Madame  Sophie,  the  Ugly  Duckling, 
was  the  first  to  notice  the  spoil-sports  ;  half  choking 
with  fury  she  hobbled  off  to  her  nephew's  apartment 
and  demanded  that  he  should  have  the  "  insolent 
fellows  "  turned  out  of  the  procession. 

It  was  Mme  Campan 's  duty  to  receive  fifty  ladies 
from  the  Paris  halles  clad  in  their  best  clothes — in 
many  cases,  a  black  silk  dress  and  diamonds.  Three 
of  these  dames  were  then  ushered  into  the  young 
mother's  bedroom,  when  one  of  their  number,  who 
had  a  fine  speaking  voice  and  was  pretty  into  the 
bargain,  pulled  a  fan  from  her  pocket  and  began  to 
read  a  speech  written  on  the  back  of  it  from  the  pen 
of  M.  de  La  Harpe,  whose  political  opinions,  like  the 
fan,  had  an  obverse  and  a  reverse.  The  queen  was 
more  gracious  to  the  ladies  from  the  markets  than 
to  the  fishwives,  whose  remarks  upon  her  sterility 
had  caused  her  to  shed  many  a  tear.  However,  the 
fishwives  were  determined  not  to  be  behind  hand,  so 
they  came  to  Versailles  and  made  numerous  speeches. 
To  the  happy  father  they  said :  **  We  are  now  con- 
vinced that  our  children  will  be  as  happy  as  we  have 
been,  for  this  child  will  resemble  you." 

When  brought  to  the  queen's  bedside,  they  de- 
clared :  **  We  have  loved  you  so  long  without  daring 
to  tell  you  so,  Madame,  that  we  have  need  of  all  our 
respect  in  order  not  to  abuse  the  permission  to  speak 
out." 

They  then  proceeded  to  harangue  Monseigneur  le 
Dauphin  while  he  lay  in  his  lace-trimmed  cradle  ;  he 
probably  continued  to  suck  his  thumb  in  sublime 
disdain,  or  perhaps  he  puckered  up  his  mouth  and 
made  faces  at  his  loyal  subjects.    To  him  they  said  : — 

60 


MES DAMES  GIVE  BAD  ADVICE 

'*You  cannot  understand  the  wishes  which  we 
now  make  around  your  cradle ;  but  some  day  you 
will  be  told  how  our  dearest  wish  is  to  see  you 
resemble  the  authors  of  your  being." 

But  it  is  a  far  cry  from  Paris  to  Versailles,  and  the 
ladies  were  glad  of  the  dinner  which  the  king  provided 
for  them.  "  Many  of  the  inhabitants  of  Versailles  came 
to  see  them  at  dinner,"  says  Mme  Campan.  Before 
returning  to  the  capital  the  guests  sang  the  following 
song  in  honour  of  the  new  little  Dauphin  : — 

"Ne  daignez  pas,  cher  papa, 
D'voir  augmenter  vot'  famille, 
Le  bon  Dieu  z'y  pourvoira  : 

Fait  's-en-tant  qu'  Versaille  en  fourmille  ; 
'Y  eut-il  cent  Bourbons  cheu  nous, 
'Y  a  du  pain,  du  laurier  pour  tous." 

Mme  Campan  does  not  say  what  her  mistress 
replied  to  these  polite  speeches  ;  however,  she  describes 
how  the  king's  aunts  were  in  the  habit  of  acting  on 
similar  occasions : — 

**  Mesdames  no  longer  took  the  trouble  to  articu- 
late any  reply.  Madame  Ad^aide  scolded  the  queen 
for  not  following  their  example,  assuring  her  that  she 
need  only  mumble  a  few  words,  for  the  speech- 
makers,  completely  taken  up  with  their  own  perform- 
ance, would  be  sure  to  declare  that  she  had  said  the 
very  thing  she  ought  to  say." 

In  her  work,  De  IJ^ducatioUy  Mme  Campan  says : 
"  Education  begins  in  the  cradle,"  and  goes  on  to 
depict  the  trials  of  peasant-women  uprooted  from 
their  healthy  homes  and  transplanted  to  the  capital ; 
she  ends  by  begging  her  readers  to  be  very  careful  in 
their  choice  of  a  nurse  for  their  children. 

6i 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

**  I  myself  saw  the  first  Dauphin's  nurse  suddenly 
become  enormously  stout  owing  to  want  of  exercise. 
She  used  to  be  sent  to  walk  up  and  down  the  terrace  ; 
but  this  exercise  was  quite  insufficient  for  a  country- 
woman, and  the  young  prince's  bad  health  was  later 
attributed  to  his  nurse's  excessive  stoutness." 

In  the  following  year  the  Court  of  Versailles  was 
visited  by  two  princes,  who,  like  their  hosts,  were  to 
perish  by  the  hands  of  their  faithful  subjects  ;  they 
were  the  king  of  Sweden,^  who  travelled  as  the  comte 
d'Haga,  and  the  comte  du  Nord,  the  future  czar 
Paul  i.^  Many  fetes  were  given  in  their  honour. 
Mme  Campan  noticed  that  the  king  and  queen  were 
much  more  at  their  ease  with  the  future  czar  than 
with  the  comte  d'Haga,  whom  the  queen  positively 
disliked  notwithstanding  his  friendship  for  France. 
Marie  Antoinette  was  never  a  good  judge  of  character, 
and  she  made  a  mistake  in  preferring  the  comte  du 
Nord  to  the  comte  d'Haga. 

Mme  Campan  overheard  a  conversation  between 
Louis  XVI  and  the  future  czar  ;  the  French  king  having 
incautiously  asked  his  guest  if  it  was  true  that  he 
could  not  trust  a  single  member  of  his  suite,  the 
comte  du  Nord  replied  in  the  presence  of  a  number  of 
persons  that  the  rumour  was  quite  correct,  and  added 
that  he  dared  not  keep  a  favourite  dog,  because  he 
was  sure  that  his  mother  would  order  it  to  be  thrown 
into  the  Seine  with  a  stone  round  its  neck. 

^  Gustavus  II i^  king  of  Sweden  (1746- 1792),  was  assassinated  while 
at  a  ball  by  Ankarstroem,  the  leader  of  a  conspiracy. 

*  Paw//(Petrowitch),  czar  of  Russia  from  1796  to  1801,  succeeded  his 
mother,  Catherine  II.  After  having  joined  the  second  coalition  against 
France,  he  concluded  an  alliance  with  Napoleon.  He  was  hkewise 
assassinated. 

62 


COMTE  D'HAGA  COMES  TO  VERSAILLES 

The  comte  d'Hagas  visit  caused  Mme  Campan  to 
spend  many  unpleasant  quarters  of  an  hour  owing  to 
a  little  habit  he  had  of  dropping  in  to  dinner  or  supper 
uninvited  ;  and  though  no  one  would  suspect  that  the 
arrival  of  an  unexpected  guest  was  calculated  to 
cause  Marie  Antoinette's  cook  to  imitate  the  immortal 
Vatel,  it  would  seem  that  the  queen  either  feigned,  or 
really  entertained  doubts  as  to  whether  the  royal 
larder  could  stand  the  strain  of  an  extra  guest.  Mme 
Campan  says  : — 

"He  came  one  day  without  an  invitation  and 
without  having  given  notice,  and  asked  the  queen  to 
let  him  stay  to  dinner.  She  received  him  in  her 
boudoir  and  immediately  sent  for  me.  She  then 
commanded  me  to  interview  her  ^/^^y  without  further 
delay,  and  to  find  out  if  there  was  enough  dinner  for 
M.  le  comte  d'Haga,  and  to  add  something  if  there 
was  not  sufficient.  The  king  of  Sweden  assured  her 
that  he  was  quite  certain  there  would  be  enough  for  him, 
at  which  I,  thinking  of  the  huge  meal  which  was 
always  prepared  for  the  king  and  queen,  and  more 
than  half  of  which  never  appeared  upon  the  table 
when  their  Majesties  dined  alone,  smiled  involuntarily. 

"  The  queen  signed  to  me  to  leave  the  room,  which 
I  did.  In  the  evening  the  queen  asked  me  why  I 
had  seemed  so  taken  aback  when  she  ordered  me  to 
add  to  the  dinner  if  it  was  not  sufficient,  and  observed 
that  I  ought  to  have  seen  that  she  wanted  to  give  the 
king  of  Sweden  a  lesson  in  politeness.  I  confessed  to 
her  that  the  whole  affair  had  reminded  me  so  strongly 
of  a  scene  often  enacted  in  less  wealthy  homes,  that  I 
had  immediately  thought  of  ordering  grilled  cutlets 
and  an  omelet,  the  usual  fare  when   an  unexpected 

63 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

guest  turns  up.     She  laughed  heartily  at  my  reply, 
and  repeated  it  to  the  king,  who  also  laughed.  .  .  ." 

During  the  same  year  Marie  Antoinette  took  her 
little  daughter,  now  aged  four  years,  to  visit  her 
husband's  aunt,  Louise,  in  the  Carmelite  convent  at 
Saint- Denis. 

Marie  Antoinette,  fearful  lest  the  nun's  severe 
costume  should  frighten  the  little  girl,  commanded 
Mme  Campan  to  dress  one  of  the  child's  dolls  as  a 
Carmelite  nun.  On  the  occasion  of  this  visit  the 
child,  as  she  was  just  about  to  be  inoculated,  was  not 
allowed  to  partake  of  the  toothsome  dainties  which 
her  great-aunt  had  prepared  for  her.  As  Madame 
Royale  did  not  protest,  although  she  was  probably 
very  hungry,  a  nun,  remarking  that  the  child  carefully 
picked  up  and  ate  all  the  crumbs  of  the  one  brioche 
she  was  allowed  to  have,  immediately  cried  out  that 
Madame  Royale's  submission  and  frugal  habits  de- 
noted a  vocation,  and  asked  the  queen  whether  she 
would  permit  her  daughter  to  take  the  veil. 

"  I  should  be  much  flattered,"  answered  Marie 
Antoinette. 

When  bidding  farewell  to  her  aunt  and  the  other 
nuns,  the  queen  called  Madame  Royale  and  asked  her 
if  she  had  nothing  to  say  to  the  ladies. 

"  Mesdames,"  replied  the  little  creature  with  a 
deep  courtesy,   *'  pray  for  me  at  Mass,  I  beg." 

During  the  cruel  winter  of  1783-84,  when  the  king 
distributed  in  charity  three  million  francs — a  mere 
drop  in  an  ocean  of  misery — Marie  Antoinette  gave 
her  little  daughter  her  first  lesson  in  alms-giving. 
Everybody  knows  that  New  Year's  Day  is  the  day  of 
days  in  France.     Marie  Antoinette  was  in  the  habit 

64 


Copyright  by] 


Madame  Royale. 

From  a  painting  by  Greuze. 


[Braun  &>  Co. 


«  •    «   ,«    e 


A  SALUTARY  LESSON 

of  sending  to  Paris  a  day  or  two  before  that  fete  for 
new  toys  for  her  little  ones.  That  year  Mme  Campan 
ransacked  all  the  toyshops  in  the  capital  and  returned 
laden  with  the  most  beautiful  toys  imaginable,  which 
were  then  arranged  in  the  queen's  boudoir.  Marie 
Antoinette  entered  leading  her  children  by  the  hand  ; 
but  instead  of  allowing  the  little  ones  to  grasp  the 
treasures,  she  restrained  them,  saying  : — 

**  I  should  like  to  have  given  you  these  pretty 
things,  but  the  winter  is  very  severe  this  year  and 
there  are  many,  many  unhappy  creatures  who  have 
nothing  to  eat,  no  clothes,  nor  wood  to  warm  them- 
selves. I  have  given  all  my  money  away  in  order  to 
help  them  ;  I  have  none  left  for  presents,  so  you 
must  do  without  this  year." 

Mme  Campan  says  that  when  Marie  Antoinette 
took  the  children  out  of  the  room  they,  and  especially 
la  petite  Madame  as  she  was  often  called,  seemed  quite 
awed  by  their  mother's  little  sermon. 


65 


CHAPTER   IV 

The  affair  of  the  queen's  necklace — Birth  of  Mme  Campan's  only  child 
— Death  of  Madame  Louise — Unpopularity  of  Marie  Antoinette — 
Death  of  the  first  Dauphin. 

Mme  Campan,  as  Marie  Antoinette's  waiting-woman, 
played  a  somewhat  important  role  in  the  affair  of  the 
queen's  necklace.  In  1774  Marie  Antoinette  had 
bought  from  the  celebrated  jeweller  Boehmer  a  set 
of  diamonds  for  360,000  francs,  which  sum  she 
promised  to  pay  in  instalments,  so  much  every  year 
until  the  debt  was  paid  off.  Boehmer  knew,  like 
everybody  else,  that  the  queen  was  passionately  fond 
of  jewels  ;  he  began  collecting  all  the  most  beautiful 
stones  he  could  find  in  the  hope  that  when  that  collec- 
tion was  completed  he  would  be  able  to  tempt  the 
queen  to  persuade  her  husband  to  buy  it  for  her. 

After  some  years  of  searching,  Bcehmer  succeeded 
in  forming  a  most  beautiful  necklace  which  he  showed 
to  M.  Campan  pere,  begging  him  as  a  favour  to  place 
it  before  the  king.  M.  Campan  was  an  honest  man  ; 
the  year  of  famine  had  come,  and  M.  Campan,  on 
hearing  that  the  price  was  1,600,000  francs,  unwilling 
to  be  instrumental  in  persuading  the  queen  to  indulge 
her  passion  for  jewels,  refused  to  have  anything  to  do 
with  the  affair.  Boehmer,  with  the  help  of  a  little 
flattery,  or  a  golden  key,  persuaded  another  member 
of  the   royal   household   to   show   the  jewel   to  his 

66 


AN  IMPORTUNATE  JEWELLER 

Majesty.  Louis  xvi  expressed  great  admiration,  and 
manifested  a  desire  to  see  the  queen  wear  the  necklace. 
But  when  it  was  exhibited  to  Marie  Antoinette,  she 
wisely  refused  to  buy  any  more  jewels,  giving  as  her 
reason  :  **  We  have  greater  need  of  a  ship  than  of  a 
necklace." 

Boehmer  in  despair  took  the  necklace  to  different 
Courts,  but  nobody  was  willing  to  give  the  price 
demanded.  A  year  later  Boehmer,  now  on  the  verge 
of  bankruptcy,  returned  to  France  and  offered  to  sell 
the  jewel  to  the  queen  at  a  reduced  price.  Mme 
Campan  was  present  during  this  interview. 

"  I  remember,"  says  she,  ''that  the  queen  told  him 
that  if  the  conditions  of  purchase  were  really  not 
extravagant,  the  king  might  buy  the  necklace  as  a 
wedding-present  for  one  of  his  children,  but  that  she 
herself  would  never  wear  it." 

Whereupon  Louis  xvi  replied  that  his  children 
might  not  live  to  grow  up — two  of  them  did  not  do  so 
— and  that  the  money  would  therefore  be  thrown 
away.  But  Boehmer  would  not  confess  himself 
defeated. 

Some  months  later  he  begged  the  queen  to  grant 
him  an  interview — which  she  very  imprudently  did. 
Boehmer  began  by  saying  that  if  she  did  not  buy  the 
necklace  he  should  be  ruined  and  he  should  then 
drown  himself.  The  queen,  annoyed  at  his  impor- 
tunity, ordered  him  to  leave  her  presence  as  she  had 
no  intention  of  purchasing  anything  more  from  him. 
Boehmer  retired  apparently  overwhelmed  with  despair. 
The  queen,  thinking  that  she  had  been  harsh  in  her 
manner,  charged  Mme  Campan  to  find  out  whether 
Boehmer  had  carried  out  his  intention  of  committing 

67 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

suicide,  but  that  lady  soon  heard  that  far  from  doing 
anything  so  foolish,  M.  Boehmer  had  disposed  of  his 
"  white  elephant  "  to  the  Sultan  of  Turkey  that  it  might 
adorn  the  shoulders  of  a  favourite  slave. 

Relieved  in  her  mind  that  her  passion  for  jewels 
had  not  caused  a  tragedy,  Marie  Antoinette,  after 
expressing  surprise  that  Boehmer  should  have  found 
a  customer  so  quickly,  promptly  forgot  the  whole  affair, 
until  the  baptism  in  1785  of  one  of  the  royal  children 
caused  her  to  order  the  jewelled  shoulder-  and  sword- 
knots  which  their  Majesties  always  presented  to  a 
royal  infant.  This  order,  notwithstanding  certain 
disagreeable  incidents,  Marie  Antoinette  foolishly 
entrusted  to  Boehmer.  The  jeweller  chose  the  moment 
when  the  queen  was  coming  out  of  her  chapel  in 
which  to  present  the  ornaments,  and  with  them  a 
scrap  of  paper  in  which  he  begged  the  queen  "  not  to 
forget  him,  and  expressed  his  satisfaction  at  the 
thought  that  her  Majesty  now  owned  the  most  beautiful 
necklace  in  Europe."  This  last  sentence  made  the 
queen  start  and  turn  pale.  Had  the  man  gone  quite 
crazy  ?  What  did  he  mean  ?  She  expressed  her 
surprise  to  M.  Campan  that  evening  when  in  her 
library ;  then  having  read  the  letter  to  her  waiting- 
woman,  she  twisted  it  up,  and  burnt  it  at  a  taper  used 
for  sealing  letters,  saying — 

**  It  is  not  worth  keeping." 

Before  retiring  to  rest  the  queen  said  to  Mme 
Campan : — 

*'  Does  he  mean  that  he  has  made  another  collec- 
tion of  jewels  ?  I  should  be  sorry  if  he  had  done  so, 
for  I  do  not  intend  to  have  any  further  dealings  with 
him.     If  I  want  to  have  my  diamonds  re-set,  I  shall 

68 


MARIE  ANTOINETTE  AND  NECKLACE 

employ  my  plate-cleaner  who  has  never  even  tried  to 
sell  me  a  single  carat.  The  fellow  is  fated  to  torment 
me  ;  he  always  has  some  crazy  plan  in  his  head.  Be 
sure  to  remember  to  tell  him  when  next  you  see  him 
that  I  no  longfer  care  for  diamonds,  and  that  I  will 
never  buy  another  as  long  as  I  live  ;  that  if  I  had  any 
money  to  spend  on  myself,  I  should  prefer  to  add  to 
my  property  at  Saint-Cloud  ;  explain  all  this  to  him 
and  make  him  thoroughly  understand." 

Mme  Campan  then  asked  her  mistress  if  she 
wished  Boehmer  to  come  and  see  her,  but  Marie 
Antoinette  replied  "  No,"  that  the  slightest  attempt  at 
arguing  with  such  a  man  would  be  most  unseemly,  and 
that  she  only  desired  her  waiting-woman  to  speak  to 
him  on  the  earliest  opportunity. 

We  will  now  hear  how  Mme  Campan  executed 
the  queen's  commission,  and  what  reply  she  obtained 
from  Boehmer : — 

"  I  then  went  to  stay  with  my  father-in-law  at  his 
country-seat  at  Crespy,  where  he  was  in  the  habit  of 
having  friends  to  dinner  on  Sundays.  Boehmer 
usually  came  there  two  or  three  times  in  the  summer. 
No  sooner  had  I  arrived  than  he  appeared.  I  faith- 
fully repeated  to  him  all  the  queen  had  told  me  to  tell 
him ;  he  seemed  petrified  with  astonishment,  and 
asked  me  how  it  was  that  the  queen  had  not  under- 
stood what  was  written  on  the  paper  he  had  handed 
to  her. 

**  *  I  myself  read  it,'  I  replied,  *  and  I  could  not 
understand  a  word  of  it.' 

**  *  I  am  not  surprised  that  you  did  not,'  answered 
Boehmer.  He  added  that  I  was  not  in  the  secret,  and 
begged  me  to  grant  him  a  private  interview  so  that 

69 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

he  might  relate  all  that  had  passed  between  him  and 
the  queen.  I  told  him  that  I  could  not  see  him  before 
nightfall,  when  the  guests  would  be  returning  to  Paris. 
When  my  presence  was  no  longer  necessary  in  the 
salon,  I  went  and  walked  with  Boehmer  up  and  down 
one  of  the  garden-paths.  I  believe  I  can  remember 
every  word  of  the  conversation  which  then  took  place 
between  that  man  and  myself.  I  was  so  terrified  on 
discovering  that  vilest  and  most  dangerous  intrigue, 
that  every  word  remained  engraved  on  my  memory. 
I  was  so  overwhelmed  with  grief,  I  foresaw  so  many 
dangers  should  the  queen  try  to  disculpate  herself, 
that  I  took  no  notice  of  a  thunderstorm  which  came 
on  while  I  was  talking  to  Boehmer.     I  began  thus  : 

"  *  What  is  the  meaning  of  the  paper  which  you 
handed  to  her  Majesty  last  Sunday  as  she  was 
leaving  the  chapel  ?  ' 

"  Boehmer. —  *  The  queen  must  surely  know, 
Madame.' 

"  Mme  Campan, — '  Excuse  me,  she  charged  me  to 
ask  you.' 

*'B.—*l  did  it  for  fun.' 

''Mme  C. — 'What  can  fun  possibly  have  to  do 
with  your  relations  with  the  queen  }  She,  as  you 
know,  seldom  wears  full  dress  nowadays :  you  your- 
self told  me  that  the  extreme  simplicity  of  the  Court 
of  Versailles  was  doing  harm  to  your  business.  She 
fears  that  you  will  make  something  else  for  her,  and 
she  charged  me  to  tell  you  that  she  will  never  buy 
another  diamond.' 

'' B, — *I  believe  you,  Madame — she  has  no  need 
to  do  so.     But  what  did  she  say  about  the  money  ? ' 
"  Mme  C, — *  Your  bill  was  paid  long  ago.' 

70 


THE  SHADOW  OF  SCARLET  ROBES 

'' B, — *Ah!  Madame,  you  are  finely  mistaken! 
She  owes  me  a  very  large  sum  ! ' 

**  Mme  C. — '  What  do  you  mean  ? ' 

**  B. — *  I  see  I  must  confess  everything  ;  the 
queen  has  purposely  left  you  in  the  dark ;  she  has 
bought  my  big  necklace.' 

**  Mme  C. — *  The  queen  ?  But  she  refused  to  buy 
it,  as  she  refused  to  allow  the  king  to  give  it  to  her/ 

''  B. — *  Well,  she  changed  her  mind/ 

"  Mme  C. — '  If  she  had  changed  her  mind,  she 
would  have  told  the  king.  I  have  never  seen  the 
necklace  among  the  queen's  diamonds.' 

''  B. — *  She  was  to  have  worn  it  on  Whitsunday  ; 
I  was  much  astonished  to  see  that  she  did  not  do  so.' 

**  Mme  C. — *  When  did  the  queen  tell  you  that  she 
had  made  up  her  mind  to  purchase  your  necklace  ? ' 

*'  B, — '  She  herself  has  never  mentioned  the  subject 
to  me.' 

''Mme  C. — 'Who  then  acted  for  her  in  the 
matter  ? ' 

**^.— 'The  cardinal  de  Rohan.' ^ 

''Mme  C. — *  She  has  not  spoken  to  him  for  eight 
years !  I  don't  know  the  thief  s  name,  my  dear 
Boehmer,  but  it  is  quite  certain  that  you  have  been 
cheated.' 

" B, — 'The  queen  pretends  to  be  on  bad  terms 
with  his  Eminence,  but  they  are  really  the  best  of 
friends.' 

'*  Mme  C. — '  What  do  you  mean  ?  The  queen 
pretends  to  be  on  bad  terms  with  such  an  important 

^  Louis  Rene,  prince  de  Rohan  (1734-1803),  cardinal.  After  the  affair 
of  the  queen's  necklace  he  was  exiled  to  the  monastery  of  Chaise-Dieu. 
He  emigrated  during  the  Revolution  and  joined  the  prince  de  Cond^. 

71 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

person  at  Court  ?  Sovereigns  usually  keep  on  good 
terms  with  such  personages.  For  four  years  she 
pretended  that  she  did  not  wish  to  buy  or  accept  your 
necklace  ?  She  buys  it  and  pretends  that  she  has 
forgotten  that  fact  because  she  never  wears  it  ?  You 
are  crazy,  my  dear  Boehmer,  and  I  see  that  you  have 
got  mixed  up  in  an  intrigue  which  makes  me  tremble 
for  you  and  grieve  for  her  Majesty.  When  I  asked 
you  six  months  ago  what  had  become  of  the  necklace 
and  to  whom  you  had  sold  it,  you  told  me  that  you 
had  sold  it  to  the  Sultan  of  Turkey.* 

''  B, — '  I  replied  as  the  queen  wished  me  to  reply  ; 
it  was  she  who  told  the  cardinal  to  order  me  to  make 
that  reply.' 

'' Mme  C, — 'Well  then,  how  were  her  Majesty's 
commands  transmitted  to  you  ?' 

'' B. — *On  papers  bearing  her  signature;  for 
some  time  past  I  have  been  obliged  to  show  them  to 
my  creditors  in  order  to  appease  them.' 

''  Mme  C. — '  Have  you,  then,  never  received  any- 
thing ? ' 

**  B. — *  Excuse  me,  I  received  a  sum  of  30,cxx5 
francs  in  notes  which  her  Majesty  told  the  cardinal  to 
give  me  when  I  delivered  the  necklace  to  him.  And 
you  can  be  quite  certain  that  he  has  private  inter- 
views with  her  Majesty,  for  he  told  me  when  he  gave 
me  the  money  that  he  saw  her  take  it  out  of  a  pocket- 
book  which  she  keeps  in  her  escritoire  with  the  Sevres 
china  plaques  which  stands  in  her  small  boudoir.' 

'' Mme  C, —  'All  this  is  nothing  but  a  tissue  of 
lies ;  and,  having  sworn  to  be  faithful  to  the  king  and 
queen  on  accepting  the  post  which  you  owe  to  them, 
you  were  guilty  of  a  great  crime  in  acting  for  the 

72 


BCEHMER  PRACTISES  DECEIT 

queen  in  such  an  important  matter  without  the  king's 
knowledge  and  without  having  received  his  verbal 
order.'  ,  .  ." 

Boehmer  seemed  struck  by  this  remark,  and  con- 
descended to  ask  Mme  Campan  what  he  had 
better  do  to  clear  up  the  intrigue.  Mme  Campan 
recommended  him  to  go  and  see  the  baron  de 
Breteuil  who  had  charge  of  the  crown  jewels,  confess 
what  had  happened,  ask  his  advice — and  follow  it. 
Before  leaving  Crespy,  however,  Boehmer  made  one 
more  effort  to  get  Mme  Campan  to  explain  everything 
to  her  mistress  and  thus  save  him  a  humiliating 
scene  with  the  baron  de  Breteuil.  This  Mme 
Campan  prudently  refused  to  do,  and  told  him  that 
he  must  confess  everything  if  he  wanted  to  obtain  the 
queen's  pardon.  When  Boehmer  had  departed,  Mme 
Campan  regretted  that  she  had  not  accompanied  him 
to  Versailles  ;  however,  her  father-in-law  persuaded 
her  to  remain  quietly  at  Crespy  until  the  queen  sent 
for  her.  At  the  end  of  ten  days  the  expected  summons 
came.  Marie  Antoinette  wrote  that  she  was  at  the 
Petit  Trianon  studying  the  part  of  Rosina  in  the 
Barbier  de  Sk)ille,  and  that  she  was  anxious  to  have 
Mme  Campan's  advice.  Mme  Campan,  supposing 
that  this  was  only  a  feint  to  hide  her  natural  curiosity 
as  to  the  outcome  of  her  interview  with  Boehmer, 
hastened  to  the  Petit  Trianon.  She  found  the 
queen  alone,  having  apparently  completely  forgotten 
Boehmer's  existence,  absorbed  in  the  part  of  Rosina. 
After  having  repeated  trills  and  roulades  for  a  whole 
hour,  the  queen  suddenly  asked  Mme  Campan  why 
she  had  sent  Boehmer  to  her,  adding  that  she  had 
refused  to  see  him.     Mme  Campan  was  aghast  at  the 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMP  AN 

fellow's  impudence  in  pretending  to  go  to  Versailles 
in  order  to  consult  the  baron  de  Breteuil,  whereas  his 
real  motive  was  to  interview  the  queen ;  her  face 
showed  her  dismay.  Seeing  how  determined  Boehmer 
was  to  have  an  explanation  with  her  mistress,  Mme 
Campan  told  her  that,  as  her  powerful  enemy,  the 
cardinal  de  Rohan,  was  concerned  in  the  affair,  she 
thought  that  the  only  way  to  clear  up  the  intrigue 
which  had  evidently  been  concocted  in  order  to  sully 
the  queen's  character,  was  to  grant  the  jeweller  an 
interview.  When  she  told  Marie  Antoinette  that 
Boehmer  was  using  papers  signed  with  her  name  as 
an  inducement  to  his  creditors  to  give  him  time  to 
pay  his  debts,  the  queen  saw  that  she  was  standing 
on  the  brink  of  a  precipice.  Hitherto  Boehmer's  im- 
portunity had  only  annoyed  her,  but  now  she  per- 
ceived a  gleam  of  scarlet  robes  behind  the  once  loved, 
now  hated  jewels.  Having  told  Mme  Campan  to 
remain  at  Trianon,  Marie  Antoinette  sent  a  messenger 
to  Paris  with  orders  to  Boehmer  to  come  immediately. 

However,  the  interview  between  the  queen  and 
her  former  jeweller  did  not  have  the  desired  effect ;  it 
only  showed  Marie  Antoinette  what  she  had  long 
suspected — that  she  had  enemies  among  the  highest 
and  the  lowest  classes  of  society. 

Boehmer  having  been  ushered  into  her  boudoir,  she 
asked  him  by  what  fatality  she  was  still  obliged  to 
listen  to  reports  of  his  mad  assertions  that  he  had 
sold  her  a  necklace  which  she  had  refused  over  and 
over  again  to  buy.  He  replied  that  he  was  obliged 
to  do  so  in  order  to  appease  his  creditors. 

**  What  do  I  care  about  your  creditors  ?  "  retorted 
Marie  Antoinette  in  her  most  insolent  tone. 

74 


THE  QUEEN'S  WORD  IS  DOUBTED 

Whereupon  Boehmer  repeated  what  he  had 
already  said  to  Mme  Campan. 

The  queen  perceived  that  her  reputation  would 
be  ruined  if  she  could  not  manage  to  extricate  herself 
from  the  net  which  her  mother's  enemy  had  cast  over 
her.  Had  not  Maria  Theresa  years  ago  asked  that 
the  cardinal  might  be  removed  from  her  Court  on 
account  of  his  scandalous  behaviour?  In  vain  the 
queen  swore  that  she  had  never  had  the  necklace,  that 
she  had  always  refused  to  buy  it  on  account  of  its 
price.     She  could  get  Boehmer  to  say  nothing  but : — 

"  Madame,  it  is  too  late  to  pretend ;  be  so  kind  as 
to  confess  you  have  my  necklace  and  give  me  some 
money,  or  the  mystery  will  soon  be  cleared  up  by  my 
bankruptcy." 

Mme  Campan  was  not  present  at  this  interview 
at  the  conclusion  of  which  she  found  her  mistress 
trembling  with  indignation  and  anger :  to  think  that 
a  low-born  shopkeeper  should  dare  to  doubt  her 
word !  that  she  should  be  suspected  of  buying  jewels 
without  her  husband's  consent  was  a  cruel  blow  to 
the  pride  of  Maria  Theresa's  daughter.  She  sent  for 
her  trusted  councillor,  the  Abb^  de  Vermond.  But 
neither  he  nor  the  baron  de  Breteuil  were  able  to 
calm  her  fears.     She  cried  to  Mme  Campan  : — 

"  This  hideous  crime  must  be  laid  bare.  The 
whole  of  France  and  Europe  shall  know  that  the 
Roman  purple  and  the  title  of  prince  only  conceal  an 
out-of-elbow,  vulgar  cheat  who  dares  to  try  and  com- 
promise his  sovereign's  spouse.'* 

The  king's  indignation  on  learning  of  the  affair 
was  scarcely  less  than  that  of  the  queen.  He  chose 
the  following  Sunday,  the  feast  of  the  Assumption,  to 

75 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

demand  an  explanation  from  the  cardinal  de  Rohan. 
Just  as  the  proud  cardinal  was  stepping  along  in  his 
bejewelled  and  lace-trimmed  vestments  on  his  way  to 
celebrate  Mass  in  the  royal  chapel  at  Versailles,  he 
received  a  command  from  the  king  to  appear  before 
him  and  his  aggrieved  spouse  in  his  study  at  mid- 
day. The  cardinal's  thoughts  during  the  Mass  must 
often  have  wandered  from  the  sacred  mystery  which 
he  was  celebrating. 

In  a  tone  of  the  deepest  indignation  the  king 
began  thus  : — 

"  Have  you  ever  bought  any  diamonds  of 
Bcehmer  ? " 

**  Yes,  Sire,"  replied  the  cardinal. 

**What  have  you  done  with  them?" 

"  I  believe  they  have  been  given  to  the  queen." 

"  Who  gave  you  the  commission  ?  " 

"  A  lady  named  the  comtesse  de  Lamotte-Valois 
gave  me  a  letter  from  the  queen  ;  I  thought  I  should 
please  her  Majesty  by  accepting  the  negotiation." 

Whereupon  that  much  injured  person  broke  in 
with  : — 

"  What,  Monsieur,  you,  to  whom  I  have  not 
addressed  one  single  word  for  the  last  eight  years — 
how  was  it  that  you  thought  I  should  choose  you  to 
carry  the  matter  through  with  the  help  of  such  a 
woman  ?  " 

The  cardinal  was  visibly  taken  aback,  but  he 
replied : — 

**  I  see  that  I  have  been  cruelly  deceived ;  I  will 
pay  for  the  necklace.  I  was  blinded  by  my  desire  to 
please  your  Majesty.  ...  I  did  not  suspect  any  fraud. 
...   I  am  sorry." 

76 


THE  CARDINAL  DE  ROHAN  AT  BAY 

As  a  proof  of  his  good  faith  he  took  a  letter  from 
his  pocket  and  showed  it  to  the  king  and  queen  :  it 
was  an  order  to  buy  the  jewel,  and  was  not  only 
addressed  by  Marie  Antoinette  to  Mme  de  Lamotte, 
but  it  bore  the  signature  "  Marie  Antoinette  de 
France."  However,  the  king  immediately  saw  it  was 
a  forgery.  **  This  is  neither  the  queen's  handwriting 
nor  her  signature,"  said  he  ;  "how  could  a  prince  of 
the  house  of  Rohan  and  the  king*s  chaplain  imagine 
that  the  queen  signed  herself  *  Marie  Antoinette  de 
France'.'^  Everybody  knows  that  queens  only  sign 
their  Christian  names,  that  even  kings'  daughters 
have  no  other  signature,  and  that,  if  the  royal  family 
added  any  other  name,  it  would  not  be  de  France,  .  .  . 
But  tell  me,  monsieur,  did  you  ever  see  this  letter  }  " 

So  saying  the  king  produced  a  copy  of  the 
missive  supposed  to  have  been  written  to  Boehmer  by 
the  cardinal ;  however,  the  latter  swore  that  he  had 
no  recollection  of  ever  having  written  it. 

*'  But,  as  it  bears  your  signature,  would  you  not 
say  it  is  genuine  ?  " 

"If  the  letter  bears  my  signature  it  must  be 
authentic,"  answered  the  cardinal,  beginning  to 
tremble  and  to  turn  pale,  which  seeing  the  king  was 
confirmed  in  his  suspicions.     He  pressed  the  point : — 

"Then  please  explain  the  whole  enigma  to  me. 
I  do  not  wish  to  make  you  out  guilty  ;  I  desire  to 
hear  you  free  yourself  from  blame.  Explain  to  me 
the  meaning  of  all  your  interviews  with,  and  your 
letters  and  promises  to  Bcehmer." 

The  cardinal  was  trembling  so  he  was  obliged 
to  lean  against  the  table.  His  voice  was  thick  as  he 
stammered  out : — 


THE  CELEBRATED  JMADAME  CAMPAN 

"Sire,  I  am  too  overcome  to  reply  to  your 
Majesty  just  at  present.  ...  I  am  not  in  a 
condition.  ..." 

"Calm  yourself,  Monsieur  le  cardinal"  replied 
the  king  good-naturedly.  "  Go  into  my  study  where 
you  will  find  paper,  pens,  and  ink,  and  write  what 
you  have  to  tell  me." 

The  cardinal  passed  a  very  bad  quarter  of  an  hour 
trying  to  put  his  revelations  on  paper ;  the  written 
result  was  no  better  than  the  verbal  explanation. 
The  king  glanced  at  the  crumpled,  ink-stained  paper 
and  said  sternly — 

"  Leave  the  room,  Monsieur  !  " 

A  few  minutes  later  the  cardinal  was  arrested  by 
M.  d'Agoult,  at  the  order  of  the  baron  de  Breteuil. 
He  was  immediately  taken  to  his  own  apartment 
under  the  charge  of  a  young  lieutenant,  who  was  so 
overcome  by  the  importance  of  his  prisoner  that  he 
lost  his  head  and  practically  allowed  him  to  do 
whatever  he  liked.  While  leaving  the  gallery  behind 
the  royal  chapel,  the  cardinal  met  his  heiduque ;  ^ 
having  called  him  to  his  side,  the  ecclesiastic 
whispered  in  German  that  he  had  an  important 
commission  for  him.  Then,  coolly  turning  to  the 
young  lieutenant,  the  cardinal  asked  him  to  lend  him 
a  pencil  as  he  wished  to  send  a  message  to  a  friend  in 
Paris.  Delighted  to  be  of  service  to  the  cardinal 
de  Rohan,  the  youth  did  as  he  was  requested ; 
whereupon  the  wily  prelate  wrote  in  German  to  his 
grand-vicar,  the  Abbd  Georgel,  ordering  him  to  burn 
all    Mme    de    Lamotte's    correspondence.     And    so 

^  Heiduque^?^  servant ;  a  sort  of  courier  usually  dressed  in  Hungarian 
costume. 

78 


BIRTH  OF  MME  CAMPAN'S  ONLY  CHILD 

history  was  cheated  through  the  inexperience  of  a 
youth  unaccustomed  to  the  wiles  of  a  cardinal. 

Some  months  afterwards,  as  no  real  proofs  of  de 
Rohan's  culpability  could  be  found,  he  was  acquitted 
— by  a  majority  of  three  votes  only. 

**  Marie  Antoinette  was  completely  crushed  by 
the  verdict,"  wrote  Mme  Campan,  **for  she  considered 
that  it  was  an  insult  to  her  dignity."  And  it  was  indeed 
a  cruel  blow  to  royalty  in  France,  and  one  from 
which  it  never  recovered.  Mme  Campan  hints  that 
Mme  de  Lamotte  was  allowed  to  escape  to  England, 
and  perhaps  she  was  right.  So  much  did  the 
Pope  doubt  the  cardinal's  good  faith  that  he,  in  the 
following  year,  asked  that  de  Rohan  might  be  tried 
in  Rome. 

One  wonders  how  Mme  Campan  with  all  her 
numerous  duties  at  Court  found  time  to  discharge 
those  of  wife  and  mother.  She  does  not  give  the 
date  of  the  birth  of  her  only  child,  Henri ;  but 
she  tells  us  that  when  she  was  in  Paris  expecting 
her  confinement,  four  messengers  stayed  in  her  house 
in  order  to  carry  the  news  to  their  respective  masters 
and  mistresses :  Louis  xvi,  Marie  Antoinette, 
Mesdames  and  Monsieur  (later  Louis  xviii).  On 
the  birth  of  this  child,  Louis  xvi  made  the  baby's 
grandfather  a  nobleman,  so  that  the  little  Henri 
might  occupy  a  high  post  at  Court  at  some  future 
time. 

The  year  1787  saw  Mme  Campan  on  the  top 
wave  of  prosperity,  for  her  salary — probably  in 
recognition  of  her  services  to  the  queen  in  the 
Boehmer  affair — was  now  raised  to  115,000  francs. 

It  was   during  this   same  year   that   one   of  her 

79 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

former  mistresses,  Madame  Louise,  passed  away  at 
her  convent  at  Saint-Denis.  Although  this  princess 
had  nominally  retired  from  the  world,  she,  as  we  have 
already  hinted,  still  wished  to  exercise  influence  over 
her  relatives  outside  her  convent  walls.  Not  content 
with  the  three  or  four  visits  which  the  Court  paid  her 
every  year,  she  continually  wrote  to  the  king  begging 
him  to  interest  himself  in  this  or  that  deserving 
ecclesiastic.  Marie  Antoinette  often  complained  to 
Mme  Campan  that  her  husband's  aunt  would  not 
content  herself  with  the  daily  routine  of  convent  life, 
but  must  needs  meddle  with  matters  which  did  not 
concern  her,  a  cloistered  nun.  Marie  Antoinette 
would  say  : — 

"  Here  is  yet  another  letter  from  my  aunt  Louise. 
She  is  the  most  intriguing  little  Carmelite  in  the 
kingdom." 

This  is  how  Louis  xvi  announced  the  death  of 
his  aunt  to  her  former  lectrice. 

**  My  aunt  Louise,  your  former  mistress,  has  died 
at  Saint- Denis  :  I  have  just  received  the  news.  Her 
piety  and  resignation  were  admirable.  Nevertheless 
my  good  aunt,  while  delirious,  still  remembered  that 
she  was  a  princess,  for  her  last  words  were  :  *  To 
Paradise,  quick !  quick !  Whip  up  your  horses ! ' 
She  probably  thought  she  was  addressing  her 
equerry." 

The  endurance  of  the  already  much  tried  poorer 
classes  in  France  was  again  put  to  the  test  during  the 
winter  of  1788-89.  The  oldest  inhabitants  of  the 
capital  could  not  remember  another  year  when  so 
much  snow  had  fallen.  The  king  and  queen  gave 
away   huge    sums    of    money.       "In     gratitude    to 

80 


EPHEMERAL  POPULARITY 

their  sovereigns,  the  Parisians,"  says  Mme  Campan, 
**  erected  in  some  of  the  chief  squares  of  the 
capital  pyramids  and  obelisks  of  snow  adorned  with 
laudatory  inscriptions."  A  pyramid  in  the  rue  dAn- 
giviller  struck  Mme  Campan  as  being  the  most 
remarkable.  "It  rested  on  a  base  five  or  six  feet 
high  by  twelve  feet  broad,  and  was  surmounted 
by  a  globe ;  the  general  effect  was  not  wanting 
in  elegance.  Several  inscriptions  in  honour  of  the 
king  and  queen  were  visible.  I  went  to  inspect 
this  singular  monument  and  I  remember  noting 
the  following  inscription  : — 

"A  Marie  Antoinette. 

"  Reine  dont  la  beaute  surpasse  les  appas, 

Pr^s  d'un  roi  bienfaisant  occupe  ici  ta  place. 
Si  ce  monument  frele  est  de  neige  et  de  glace, 
Nos  coeurs  pour  toi  ne  le  sont  pas. 
De  ce  monument  sans  exemple, 

Couple  auguste,  I'aspect  bien  doux  pour  votre  cceur 
Sans  doute  vous  plaira  plus  qu'un  palais,  qu'un  temple 
Que  vous  el^verait  un  peuple  adulateur." 

The  people's  enthusiasm  melted  with  the  snow. 
The  queen's  few  appearances  in  the  capital  during  the 
spring  of  1789  were  marked  by  hostile  demonstra- 
tions. On  returning  from  one  of  these  visits  during 
the  month  of  May,  Marie  Antoinette  remarked  to  her 
husband's  aunts  a  propos  of  the  unfriendly  reception 
accorded  to  her  :  "  Oh !  ces  indignes  Franfais  I "  where- 
upon Madame  Adelaide,  glad  to  be  able  to  correct 
her  nephew's  wife,  retorted :  **  Dites  indignes, 
Madame.'' 

It  was  towards  the  end  of  this  same  month  of 
May  that  Mme  Campan  witnessed  a  very  curious 
F  81 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMP  AN 

scene,  one  of  those  strange  incidents  which  prompted 
the  poet  to  exclaim  : — 

"There  are  more  things  in  heaven  and  earth 
Than  are  dreamt  of  in  our  philosophy." 

While  Marie  Antoinette  was  seated  one  evening 
relating  to  her  waiting-women  several  strange  events 
which  had  happened  during  the  day,  one  of  the  four 
wax  candles  on  her  dressing-table  suddenly  went  out. 
Mme  Campan  promptly  re-lighted  it.  No  sooner  had 
she  done  so  when  the  second  candle  also  went  out. 
Mme  Campan,  astonished,  looked  to  see  whether  a 
draught  had  caused  the  accident ;  but  the  doors  and 
windows  were  firmly  closed.  Scarcely  had  she  re- 
lighted the  candle  and  returned  to  her  seat  when  the 
third  candle  went  out  in  the  same  mysterious  manner. 
Marie  Antoinette,  trembling  with  terror,  seized  her 
waiting-woman  by  the  hand  and  said  : — 

*'  Misfortune  has  the  power  to  make  us  super- 
stitious ;  if  the  fourth  candle  goes  out  like  the  others, 
nothing  will  prevent  me  considering  it  as  a  warning 
of  some  fatal  event." 

While  the  queen  was  still  speaking,  the  fourth 
candle  spluttered  for  a  second  and  then  went  out. 

Before  a  fortnight  had  elapsed  the  Dauphin  was 
dead. 

This  child,  according  to  Mme  Campan,  was 
remarkably  intelligent ;  at  two  years  of  age  he  was 
able  to  talk  as  well  as  any  child  of  six.  On  being 
given  a  box  of  sweetmeats  adorned  with  his  mother's 
portrait,  he  lisped  :  "  Ah  !  there  is  Mama's  picture  !  " 

He  was  very  fond  of  animals.  As  his  delicate 
health  prevented  him  riding  a  horse,  he  was  given  a 
donkey  instead.     "This   animal,"  remarked   he  one 

82 


THE  FIRST  DAUPHIN 

day  to  his  great-aunts,  *'  this  animal  is  just  as  useful 
to  me  with  its  long  ears  as  if  it  had  none  at  all,  so 
why  should  my  dog's  ears  be  cropped  ?  " 

His  delicate  health  probably  made  him  doubly 
precious  to  his  parents,  who  tried  to  humour  him  in 
every  way. 

Mme  Campan  noticed  with  dismay  that  at  four 
years  of  age  the  little  prince  had  ceased  to  care  for 
his  wooden  horse  and  tin  soldiers. 

"  New  Year's  Day,"  says  she,  '*  was  approaching  ; 
the  queen  wished  to  give  her  son  some  gifts  ;  the 
Paris  toyshops  were  turned  inside  out  in  order  to 
tempt  the  prince's  taste ;  tables  were  arranged  all 
round  one  of  the  largest  rooms  in  the  queen's  suite. 
When  everything  was  ready,  the  queen  was  informed. 
She  took  the  young  prince  by  the  hand  and  told  him 
to  choose  what  he  liked.  I  followed  with  my  Henri, 
who  had  been  playing  with  the  Dauphin.  We  walked 
round  the  room  and  even  I  was  astonished  at  the 
quantity  of  ingenious  mechanical  toys  which  the  toy- 
seller  wound  up  and  set  going  :  there  were  vintagers 
emptying  baskets  of  grapes  into  a  vat  in  which  other 
little  figures  were  treading  the  fruit  with  their  feet ; 
there  were  Russian  ladies  gliding  along  in  sledges 
over  the  surface  of  a  polished  mirror ;  there  were 
farriers  making  horseshoes,  a  huntsman  shooting  at 
a  hare  running  through  a  cornfield.  Twenty  other 
mechanical  toys  lay  on  the  tables  :  there  were  pretty 
pieces  of  miniature  mahogany  furniture,  horses  with 
bright  harness,  Punches  with  the  drollest  faces  in  the 
world,  sparkling  with  imitation  jewels  and  gold  lace. 
The  queen  continually  paused  to  ask  her  son : 
*  Would  you  like  this,  vton  ami  ? '     The  child  calmly 

83 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

replied  :  'I've  already  got  one.' — *  And  that  ? ' — *  I've 
got  that  also.' — 'Would  you  not  like  this  pretty 
Punch?' — 'I've  broken  three,  I  don't  want  any 
more.' — 'What  about  this  horse.-*' — '  I've  still  got 
one.' — They  went  round  the  room  without  finding  a 
single  toy  that  pleased  him.  He  had  already  had  so 
many  expensive  toys  that  he  no  longer  cared  for  any  ; 
meanwhile  my  son  was  jumping  with  joy  and  admira- 
tion at  every  new  object.  He  squeezed  my  hand 
and  whispered  to  me  when  he  admired  anything  very 
particularly ;  his  excitement  formed  a  complete 
contrast  with  the  young  prince's  air  of  weariness. 
The  queen  gave  my  son  several  objects,  which 
delighted  him  so  much  that  we  had  to  put  them  at 
night  at  the  foot  of  his  bed,  so  greatly  did  he  dread 
being  parted  from  his  treasures.  She  returned  to  her 
boudoir  without  having  found  a  single  present  for  the 
young  prince.  The  toy-seller,  while  packing  up  his 
pretty  mechanical  toys,  said  :  '  It  is  very  sad  to  think 
that  I  have  shown  Monseigneur  three  hundred  louis 
worth  of  toys,  and  yet  he  does  not  care  for  a  single 
one.*  ..." 

The  Dauphin  had  several  likes  and  dislikes 
among  his  mother's  friends  ;  the  duchesse  de  Polignac 
was  his  particular  bite  noire.  Why  ^  Because  she 
used  very  strong  scent.  During  his  last  illness  she 
came  into  his  room  and,  after  having  asked  after  his 
health,  proceeded  to  takea  seat  by  his  bedside,  upon 
seeing  which  the  little  invalid  cried :  "Go  away, 
Duchess ;  you  have  a  mania  for  using  certain  scents 
which  always  make  me  feel  sick." 

But  he  had  other  and  better  friends,  and  among 
these  was  his  own  footman,  M.  de  Bourset.     Towards 

84 


THE  FIRST  DAUPHIN  DIES 

the  end  of  his  illness,  the  Dauphin  begged  this  man  to 
fetch  him  a  pair  of  scissors,  although  he  knew  that  he 
was  not  allowed  to  have  them.  For  a  long  time  M.  de_ 
Bourset  refused  to  grant  his  request,  but  the  little  invalid 
pleaded  so  piteously  that  the  faithful  servitor  at  last 
had  to  yield  ;  whereupon  the  Dauphin  cut  off  one  of 
his  long  fair  curls,  wrapped  it  in  a  piece  of  paper  and 
giving  it  to  his  footman,  said  :  '*  There,  Monsieur, 
that  is  the  only  thing  I  have  to  give  you  ;  but  when  I 
am  dead  take  this  token  to  my  papa  and  mama.  I 
hope  that  when  they  remember  me  they  will  not 
forget  your  services." 


85 


CHAPTER  V 

The  queen  is  persuaded  to  take  an  interest  in  politics — The  first  stroke 
of  midnight — Versailles  receives  a  visit  from  the  populace — The 
queen  prepares  to  go  to  the  Tuileries — Her  friends  begin  to  leave 
her — "  Balthasar's  Feast " — Versailles  is  visited  for  the  second  time 
and  the  palace  invaded — The  royal  family  are  escorted  to  Paris — 
The  queen  confides  a  delicate  mission  to  her  hairdresser. 

Mme  Campan  noticed  that  Marie  Antoinette  had 
practically  taken  no  interest  in  State  affairs  until  after 
the  deaths  of  MM.  de  Maurepas  and  de  Vcrgennes, 
and  until  M.  de  Calonne  left  France  after  helping  to 
bring  about  the  disaster  which  was  to  cost  his  royal 
master  his  life.  But  now  a  change  seemed  about 
to  take  place.  Strange  to  say,  Marie  Antoinette, 
always  so  easily  influenced,  had  not  joined  M.  de 
Calonne's  crowd  of  worshippers  ;  she  thought  him  an 
intriguer  and  even  warned  her  husband  not  to  trust 
him  ;  however,  other  historians  assert  that  he  was  a 
favourite  with  the  queen,  and  that  it  was  to  please 
her  that  he  consented  to  raise,  in  the  space  of  two 
years,  divers  loans  amounting  to  650  million  francs  so 
that  the  Court  might  continue  its  downward  course  to 
perdition.  Attacked  by  the  Parliaments  in  1785,  he 
persuaded  Louis  xvi  two  years  later  to  convoke  the 
Assembly  of  Notables.  In  order  to  obtain  still  more 
money  he  proposed  a  land-tax,  also  a  tax  upon  all 
business  transactions.     To  obtain  this  new  tax,   he 

86 


QUEEN  TAKES  INTEREST  IN  POLITICS 

promised  that  the  ancient  corvde  ^  should  be  abolished, 
likewise  the  tax  upon  provisions  entering  provincial 
towns.  He  declared  that  this  new  scheme  would 
free  France  from  debt  within  twelve  months.  But 
the  Assembly  of  Notables  revolted  against  his  decrees 
and,  backed  by  Lafayette,  ordered  him  to  give  an 
account  of  his  transactions,  whereupon  the  king  was 
forced  to  dismiss  him  and  send  him  into  exile  in 
Lorraine. 

The  queen  now  often  complained  to  Mme  Campan 
that  she  had  been  drawn  into  politics  against  her  will. 
One  day,  while  her  waiting-woman  was  helping  her 
to  fasten  up  the  bundles  of  statements  and  memorials 
which  she  had  been  requested  by  certain  statesmen 
to  show  to  the  king,  she  said  : — 

**  Ah  !  there  is  no  more  peace  for  me  now  that 
they  have  made  me  into  an  intriguer!" 

On  her  waiting-woman  expressing  surprise  at  this 
assertion,  the  queen  explained  : — 

"  Yes,  I  mean  what  I  say :  every  woman  who 
meddles  with  matters  which  she  cannot  understand 
and  which  do  not  concern  her  duties  is  nothing  but 
an  intriguer.  Remember  that  I  am  not  blind  to  my 
own  faults,  and  that  I  deeply  regret  having  to  give 
myself  this  title.  The  queens  of  France  can  only 
hope  to  be  happy  by  holding  aloof  from  politics  and 
by  exercising  just  enough  influence  to  further  the 
good  fortunes  of  their  friends  and  a  few  zealous 
servitors." 

Mme    Campan    might    have    been    tempted    to 
remark   that  this  was  exactly  the  sort   of  influence 
a  queen  ought  to  refrain  from  exercising :  were  not 
*  Corvie :  statute-labour. 

87 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

her  friends,  the  de  Polignacs,  among  those  who  had 
helped  the  queen  to  squander  so  many  of  M.  de 
Calonne's  hardly  obtained  millions  ? 

The  queen  continued  : — 

"  Do  you  know  what  happened  to  me  the  other 
day  ?  I  had  been  assisting  at  one  of  the  king's  secret 
audiences,  and  I  was  crossing  the  CEil  de  Bosuf  vfh^n 
I  heard  one  of  the  musicians  belonging  to  the  chapel 
say  loud  enough  for  me  to  distinguish  every  word  : 

*  A  queen  who  does  her  duty  remains  in  her  private 
apartments  making  lace.'     I  said  under  my  breath  : 

*  Unhappy  man,  you  are  right,  but  you  do  not  know 
my  position  :  I  am  forced  to  submit  to  my  cruel  fate/  " 

On  hearing  of  the  fall  of  the  Bastille,  Louis  xvi 
expressed  but  little  concern  ;  perhaps  he  was  the  only 
person  in  his  kingdom  who  realized  that  the  king  of 
France  had  practically  ceased  to  reign.  When  the 
due  de  La  Rochefoucauld- Liancourt  arrived  from 
Paris  with  the  news  that  the  populace  had  taken 
matters  into  their  own  hands,  the  king,  still  only  half 
awake,  questioned  the  duke :  "Is  there  a  riot  in 
Paris  }  "     To  which  the  messenger  sadly  replied  : — 

"  No,  Sire,  'tis  a  Revolution !  " 

On  the  morrow  the  king,  apparently  awakened 
from  his  lethargy,  consented  to  go  with  his  brothers 
to  the  AssembUe  and  see  for  himself  whether  he  had 
really  lost  all  power.  He  was  received  with  many 
marks  of  sympathy  and  respect,  and  returned  to  the 
palace  escorted  by  a  crowd  of  enthusiasts.  The 
comte  d'Artois,  however,  was  not  included  in  this 
outburst  of  popular  enthusiasm.  Mme  Campan  fre- 
quently heard  people  in  the  crowd  cry  out  as  he  rode 
past  her : — 

88 


VERSAILLES  IS  VISITED  BY  PARISIANS 

"  Long  live  the  king,  notwithstanding  you  and 
your  opinions,  Monseigneur  !  " 

The  king's  first  act  on  returning  to  his  palace  was 
to  send  for  his  wife  and  son  that  they  might  show 
themselves  to  their  devoted  subjects. 

Mme  Campan  had  returned  to  her  own  room  in 
the  palace  when  the  door  was  burst  open  by  the 
duchesse  de  Polignac,  who,  after  telling  her  that  the 
queen  desired  her  to  bring  the  Dauphin  to  her 
boudoir,  began  to  grumble  because  she  had  been 
told  not  to  show  herself  to  the  crowd  as  she  was  so 
unpopular. 

**Ah!  Mme  Campan,"  sighed  the  aggrieved 
duchess,  covering  the  astonished  little  Dauphin  with 
tears  and  kisses,  and  seizing  the  hand  of  the  queen's 
waiting- woman  as  if  to  detain  her,  "■  what  a  cruel  blow 
I  have  received  !  " 

Mme  Campan  cut  this  ridiculous  scene  short  by 
taking  the  child  to  his  mother,  having  done  which 
she  again  descended  into  the  courtyard  and  mingled 
with  the  crowd. 

**  People  were  vociferating  and  gesticulating  on 
all  sides,"  says  she;  **it  was  easy  to  judge  from  the 
different  voices  that  many  of  the  persons  present  were 
disguised.  A  woman  with  her  face  partly  covered  by 
a  black  lace  veil  seized  me  rather  roughly  by  the  arm, 
and  calling  me  by  my  name  said  :  *  I  know  you  well. 
Tell  your  queen  not  to  meddle  any  longer  with  our 
government ;  tell  her  to  let  her  husband  and  our 
good  states-general  attend  to  our  wants.'  At  the 
same  instant  a  man  dressed  like  a  porter  at  the  Paris 
markets,  with  his  broad-brimmed  hat  pulled  down 
over  his  face,  seizing  me  by  my  other  arm,  exclaimed  : 

89 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

*  Yes,  yes,  tell  her  over  and  over  again  that  these 
states-generals  are  not  going  to  imitate  the  other 
states  which  never  did  the  people  any  good,  that  the 
nation  is  too  wideawake  not  to  profit  by  the  advan- 
tages won  in  1789,  and  that  deputies  from  the  Tiers 
6tat  will  no  longer  deliver  their  discourses  on  bended 
knees  ;  tell  her  all  that,  do  you  hear  ? ' 

*'  I  was  terrified.  The  queen  appeared  on  the 
balcony  at  that  moment. 

•'  *  Ah  ! '  exclaimed  the  veiled  woman,  '  the  duchess 
is  not  with  her.' 

"'No,'  replied  the  man,  'but  she  is  still  at  Ver- 
sailles. She  is  like  a  mole  ;  she  works  underground, 
but  we  shall  find  a  way  to  dig  her  out ! '" 

Mme  Campan  was  so  shocked  by  what  she  heard 
that  she  hurried  into  the  palace  as  quickly  as  her 
trembling  legs  could  take  her.  She  was  crossing  the 
terrace  that  same  afternoon  about  four  o'clock  in  order 
to  pay.  a  visit  to  Madame  Adelaide,  who  was  staying 
at  the  palace,  when  she  noticed  three  men  standing 
under  the  windows  of  the  Throne- Room. 

"  There  is  the  throne,"  said  one  of  them  ;  "  before 
very  long  people  will  search  in  vain  for  a  vestige  of 
it." 

Mme  Campan  waited  to  hear  no  more.  She 
found  Madame  Adelaide  alone  at  her  work,  seated 
behind  the  canvas  blind  which  was  necessary  to 
screen  her  from  inquisitive  visitors  from  Paris.  Mme 
Campan  told  her  what  she  had  just  heard,  and 
begged  her  to  take  a  peep  at  the  three  men,  who  were 
still  standing  where  she  had  left  them.  Madame 
Adelaide  immediately  recognized  one  of  the  speakers 
as  the  marquis  de  Saint- Huruge,  who,  she  said,  had 

90 


QUEEN  LEAVING  VERSAILLES 

a  spite  against  society  on  account  of  his  having  been 
imprisoned  for  some  time  in  the  Bastille  for  a  youthful 
offence,  and  who  had  sold  himself  to  the  due  d'Orl^ans. 

Between  the  months  of  July  and  October  of  1789 
the  due  d' Orleans  made  frequent  visits  to  England  ; 
his  return  to  Paris  was  always  marked  by  popular 
disturbances,  fomented,  Mme  Campan  declares,  by 
English  gold.  On  two  or  three  occasions  she  had 
planned  a  visit  to  the  capital  on  business  or  for  her 
own  pleasure,  and  the  queen  had  begged  her  to 
postpone  the  trip  saying  : — 

**  Do  not  go  up  to  Paris  to-morrow ;  the  English 
have  been  scattering  their  gold  about — we  shall  have 
trouble ! " 

With  a  view  to  calming  the  populace,  the  king 
determined  to  pay  a  visit  to  his  good  town  of  Paris — 
'twas  but  a  brief  one,  however,  for  he  was  back  at 
Versailles  before  midnight.  Marie  Antoinette  now 
began  to  make  her  preparations  for  leaving  Versailles, 
for  she  was  beginning  to  understand  that,  sooner  or 
later,  the  king  would  have  to  live  in  his  capital. 
Mme  Campan  declares  that  the  queen  really  wished 
to  do  so,  and  that  on  July  16  she  emptied  her  jewel- 
cases  and  put  all  her  diamonds  in  a  casket,  which  she 
intended  to  carry  on  her  lap.  Mme  Campan  also 
helped  her  to  burn  a  number  of  papers,  one  of  which 
the  queen  handed  to  her  telling  her  not  to  read  it 
until  she  received  commands  to  that  effect.  The 
queen  then  went  into  the  king's  study,  where  they 
conferred  together  for  some  time.  On  her  return, 
Marie  Antoinette  informed  her  waiting-woman  that 
the  departure  for  Paris  had  been  postponed,  that  the 
army  would   start  without   the   king,  and   then   she 

91 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

asked  for  the  paper  which  she  had  just  entrusted  to 
Mme  Campan  and  read  it  aloud.  It  contained  in- 
structions for  the  journey  up  to  Paris,  and  authorized 
Mme  Campan  to  act  as  governess  to  la  petite 
Madame.  With  tears  in  her  eyes  the  queen  tore  up 
the  paper  adding  : — 

"  When  I  wrote  this,  I  hoped  that  it  would  be 
useful,  but  Fate  has  willed  otherwise.  I  fear  that 
things  are  going  to  turn  out  badly  for  all  of  us." 

However,  there  were  many  who  were  determined 
to  put  themselves  out  of  reach  of  harm's  way. 
Naturally  those  persons  were  some  of  the  chief 
offenders :  the  due  and  the  duchesse  de  Polignac ; 
their  daughter,  the  duchesse  de  Quiche ;  the  duke's 
vile  sister,  the  duchesse  Diane ;  the  Abbds  de 
Vermond  and  de  Baliviere,  the  princes  de  Conde^  and 
de  Conti,  the  comte  d'Artois,  the  prince  de  Lambesc, 
the  mar^chal  de  Broglie,  and  several  others  fled  from 
France  only  three  days  after  the  fall  of  the  Bastille  ! 

To  M.  Campan  the  queen  entrusted  the  arrange- 
ments for  the  departure  of  her  friends  the  de 
Polignacs  ;  he  had  to  provide  them  with  funds — they 
were  not  likely  to  go  away  empty-handed, — viz.  :  a 
purse  containing  five  hundred  golden  louis,  dubbed 
a  loan  by  the  queen.  On  bidding  farewell  to  her 
dear  friend — whose  pretext  for  leaving  France  was 
that  she  needed  a  cure — Marie  Antoinette  said  that 
she  knew  exactly  what  a  painful  position  the  duchess 
was  in,  that  she  had  often  calculated  the  expenses 
which  a  person  at  Court  had  to  face,  and  that,  as 
neither  the  duke  nor  his  wife  had  been  able  to  put 
anything  aside — the  Parisians  thought  otherwise — she 
begged  her  to  accept  the  loan. 

92 


ABBfi  DE  VERMOND  LEAVES  FRANCE 

By  midnight  everything  was  ready,  and  the  queen  s 
friend,  disguised  as  a  lady's-maid,  took  her  place  in 
the  berlin  with  many  injunctions  to  M.  Campan  to 
mention  her  name  frequently  to  his  royal  mistress, 
so  that  she  might  not  be  forgotten. 

Mme  de  Tourzel  was  immediately  given  the  post 
of  governess  to  the  Children  of  France  vacated  by  the 
duchess ;  the  queen  could  not  have  made  a  better 
choice. 

When  her  friends  had  departed,  the  queen,  unable 
to  sleep,  called  her  waiting-woman  to  sit  beside  her. 
During  the  course  of  the  conversation,  which  lasted 
until  three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  Mme  Campan  was 
surprised  to  hear  the  queen  express  the  opinion  that, 
even  supposing  the  present  crisis  came  to  naught,  the 
Abbe  de  Vermond  was  not  likely  to  return  to  France 
for  some  time.  After  lamenting  his  departure,  Marie 
Antoinette  remarked  to  her  waiting-woman  that  she, 
Mme  Campan,  had  but  little  cause  to  regret  his 
absence.  The  queen  then  explained  that  the  Abbe 
did  not  dislike  Mme  Campan  personally,  but  that  his 
hatred  of  the  Campan  clan  had  dated  from  the  early 
days  of  her  marriage,  when  M.  Campan /^r^  was  made 
her  librarian  and  secretary,  two  posts  which  brought 
the  owner  into  all-too-frequent  intercourse  with  the 
jealous  Abbe.  Marie  Antoinette  ended  by  begging 
Mme  Campan  to  tell  her  what  she  really  thought  of 
the  absent  ecclesiastic.  Mme  Campan's  astonishment 
was  great :  here  was  the  queen,  who  hitherto  had 
refused  to  hear  anything  against  her  spiritual  guide, 
speaking  of  him  as  if  he  had  already  passed  out  of 
her  life ;  inviting,  nay,  almost  commanding  her  to 
give  expression  to  the  indignation  which  had  been 

93 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

rankling  in  her  breast  for  so  many  years!  No 
wonder  the  duchesse  de  Polignac  had  prayed  M. 
Campan  to  keep  her  memory  green  at  Court!  In 
order  to  make  Mme  Campan  speak  out,  the  queen 
informed  her  that  the  Abbd  for  twelve  years  had 
been  doing  everything  he  could  to  get  the  Campan 
clan  into  disfavour,  but  that  he  had  failed  in  his 
project,  so  she  need  not  be  afraid  to  say  what  she 
thought.  Thus  invited,  Mme  Campan  endeavoured 
to  draw  the  Abbe's  portrait  in  its  true  colours,  and 
concluded  with  the  remark  that,  naturally  talkative 
and  indiscreet,  he  pretended  to  be  brusque  and 
eccentric  in  order  to  hide  these  failings,  whereupon 
Marie  Antoinette  exclaimed  : — 

**  Ah  !  how  true  that  is  !  " 

The  next  few  months  saw  the  eddies  of  the  whirl- 
pool which  had  swallowed  up  the  capital  spread  to  the 
most  remote  corners  of  France.  The  king  had  done 
nothing  to  stop  the  inundation ;  still  comfortably 
ensconced  in  his  magnificent  abode  at  Versailles,  he 
made  no  attempt  to  check  the  ridicule  with  which 
the  Court  endeavoured  to  choke  the  new-born 
Revolution. 

On  October  i  a  grand  banquet  was  given  in  the 
royal  theatre  by  the  king's  guards  to  the  lately 
arrived  Regiment  de  Flandre,  summoned  to  Versailles 
at  the  king's  behest,  when  the  guests  in  the  presence 
of  the  royal  family  refused  to  drink  to  the  nation's 
health,  but  drank  so  frequently  to  the  health  and 
welfare  of  the  king  and  queen  that  all  prudence  was 
cast  to  the  wind  and  the  tricolour  cockade  trodden 
under  foot.  Mme  Campan  and  her  little  niece,  the 
child  of  her  sister  Mme  Augui^,  were  present  at  this 

94 


'*  BALTHASAR'S  FEAST  ' 

banquet,  called  by  M.  Ernest  Hamel  *'  Balthasar's 
Feast,"  and  heard  the  orchestra  play  O  Richard^ 
6  mon  roil  and  Peiit-on  affliger  ce  quon  aime?y  airs 
considered  suitable  for  the  occasion. 

On  returning  to  her  own  apartments,  which  she 
found  full  of  visitors,  Mme  Campan,  delighted,  as 
a  royalist,  by  what  she  had  just  seen,  was  met  by  one 
of  her  relatives,  who  was  chaplain  to  the  queen,  with 
the  news  that  he  had  just  administered  the  Last 
Sacraments  to  a  soldier  belonging  to  the  Regiment 
de  Flandre  who  had  shot  himself  and  now  lay  dying 
in  a  corner  of  the  Place  d'Armes.  During  his  con- 
fession the  youth  said  that  he  had  committed  suicide 
in  remorse  for  having  allowed  himself  to  be  led  away 
by  the  king's  enemies. 

Mme  Campan's  enthusiasm  for  the  scene  which 
she  had  lately  witnessed  received  another  check  when 
she  noticed  the  grave  face  of  one  of  her  visitors, 
M.  de  Beaumetz,  deputy  for  Arras.  This  gentleman 
listened  to  her  highly  coloured  account  of  the  banquet 
with  an  air  of  disdain.  When  she  had  finished,  he 
said  that  the  whole  affair  was  terrible,  that  he  was 
familiar  with  the  Asse7nbldes  plans,  that  the  incident 
would  be  productive  of  great  misfortunes,  and  con- 
cluded with  a  request  that  he  might  be  allowed  to 
take  leave  of  the  company,  as  he  wished — prudent 
man ! — to  decide  whether  he  had  better  emigrate  or 
go  over  to  the  popular  party. 

On  the  morrow,  as  if  emboldened  by  this  outburst, 
the  queen's  ladies-in-waiting  offered  another  insult  to 
the  nation  when  they  went  about  the  streets  of 
Versailles  distributing  white  cockades  to  the  inhabit- 
ants and  visitors ;  and  on  October  3  a  second  orgy, 

95 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

similar  to  that  enacted  on  the  ist,  took  place,  when 
those  nobles  who  had  not  already  fled  came  by  their 
presence  to  encourage  the  soldiers  in  their  foolish 
behaviour. 

These  orgies  and  the  rumour  that  the  king  was 
about  to  be  carried  off  to  Metz  by  his  friends,  induced 
the  nation  to  declare  that  the  safest  place  for  its  king 
during  such  troublous  times  was  in  his  good  town  of 
Paris. 

It  happened  that  Mme  Campan  was  not  on  duty 
at  the  palace  on  October  5,  when  the  peaceful  court- 
yard received  its  baptism  of  blood  ;  but  her  sister, 
Mme  Auguid,  was  there  with  M.  Campan  pere,  and, 
by  her  bravery  on  the  terrible  night  of  October 
5-6,  won  for  herself  the  name  of  **  my  lioness " 
with  which  Marie  Antoinette  sought  to  reward  her. 
Mme  Auguid  and  M.  Campan  remained  with  their 
royal  mistress  until  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  when, 
M.  de  Lafayette  having  declared  that  the  royal 
family  could  retire  to  rest,  as  he  and  his  men  would 
answer  for  their  lives,  Marie  Antoinette  took  leave  of 
her  faithful  servitors,  begging  M.  Campan /^r^  to  tell 
his  daughter-in-law  that  all  danger  was  over. 

In  the  following  letter  written  to  her  brother, 
Edmond  Charles  Genest,  who  was  then  occupying 
a  post  in  Russia,  Mme  Campan  describes  her 
sister's  experiences  on  that  horrible  night : — 

'* .  .  .  My  mind  is  still  so  agitated,  my  dreams 
so  painful,  and  my  sleep  so  interrupted,  I  know  not 
whether  I  shall  have  the  strength  to  trace  the  piteous 
scenes  which  I  have  lately  witnessed.  My  sister  was 
with  the  queen  on  the  night  of  October  5-6 ;  to 
her  I  owe  some  of  the  details  which  I  am  now  going 

96 


THE  QUEEN  HAS  A  NARROW  ESCAPE 

to  relate.  On  hearing  M.  de  Lafayette,  as  he  left 
the  king,  inform  the  latter  that  he  was  going  to  lodge 
his  troops  as  best  he  could,  the  inhabitants  of  the 
palace  thought  that  they  could  retire  to  rest.  The 
queen  undressed  and  went  to  bed.  My  sister,  having 
discharged  her  duties,  withdrew  to  an  adjoining 
room  ;  here  she  gave  way  to  her  grief,  and  bursting 
into  tears  said  to  her  companions  :  ^  How  can  we 
retire  to  rest  when  there  are  thirty  thousand  soldiers, 
ten  thousand  brigands,  and  forty-two  cannons  in  the 
town  ? ' — *  No,  certainly  not ! '  replied  they,  *  we  will 
not  be  guilty  of  such  weakness.'  So  they  lay  down 
still  dressed  on  their  beds.  It  was  then  four  o'clock 
in  the  morning.  Exactly  at  six  o'clock  a  band  of 
brigands  overpowered  the  sentinels  and  rushed  along 
the  corridors  in  the  direction  of  the  queen's  apartment. 
My  sister  was  the  first  to  hear  these  terrible  words  : 
*  Save  the  queen  ! '  The  king's  bodyguard  who  had 
uttered  them  received  thirteen  wounds  outside  the 
door  while  he  was  warning  us.  If  the  queen's  women 
had  undressed,  nothing  could  have  saved  her;  they 
only  had  time  to  rush  into  her  room,  pull  her  out  of 
bed,  throw  a  quilt  over  her,  carry  her  to  the  king's 
room,  and  shut  the  door  leading  to  that  room  as  best 
they  could.  She  fell  fainting  into  the  arms  of  her 
august  spouse.  ..." 

M.  Hamel  tells  us  that  the  Parisians,  after 
decapitating  two  of  the  king's  bodyguard  and 
carrying  their  heads  upon  pikes,  allowed  themselves 
to  be  pacified  by  another  fleeting  vision  of  their 
king  and  queen  standing  on  that  gilt  balcony  from 
which  Louis  xvi's  ancestors  had  witnessed  such 
different  scenes. 

G  97 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

Marie  Antoinette  immediately  after  sent  for  Mme 
Campan  as  well  as  M.  Canupdin  pere,  as  she  wished  to 
give  into  the  latter's  charge  two  packets  containing 
valuable  papers  and  those  jewels  which  she  did  not  de- 
sire to  take  with  her  on  that  now  inevitable  journey. 

Mme  Campan  found  her  mistress  alone  in  her 
boudoir  ;  she  was  just  about  to  start  for  Paris.  It 
was  a  most  bitter  moment  for  the  daughter  of  Maria 
Theresa.  She  could  scarcely  speak  ;  her  face  was 
crimson  ;  tears  were  streaming  down  her  cheeks. 
She  kissed  her  waiting-woman,  gave  her  hand  to 
M.  Campan  pere^  and  said :  '*  Come  up  to  Paris 
immediately ;  I  will  lodge  you  at  the  Tuileries. 
Come  with  me  and  do  not  leave  me  again ;  at  such 
times  faithful  servitors  become  useful  friends.  We 
are  ruined  ;  perhaps  we  are  being  hurried  along 
towards  death,  for  when  kings  are  cast  into  prison 
they  are  near  the  end." 

M.  Campan  and  his  daughter-in-law  were  scarcely 
less  grieved  than  the  queen.  M.  Campan,  in  especial, 
was  so  shocked  that  his  health  became  seriously 
affected,  and  on  the  morrow  of  the  queen's  departure  the 
illness  which  eventually  killed  him  manifested  itself. 

In  the  same  letter,  reproduced  on  a  previous  page, 
Mme  Campan  says  : — 

"...  The  journey  to  Paris  lasted  seven  hours 
and  a  half,  throughout  which  we  heard  a  continual 
rattle  and  roar  of  thirty  thousand  muskets  being 
loaded  with  balls  and  discharged  in  honour  of  the 
king's  return  to  Paris.  Cries  of:  'Aim  straight!' 
were  raised  in  vain  ;  notwithstanding  that  precaution, 
the  balls  sometimes  hit  the  carriages.  We  were 
suffocated  by  the  smell  of  gunpowder,  and  the  crowd 

98 


THE  JOURNEY  UP  TO  PARIS 

was  so  dense  that  many  were  forced  against  the 
carriages  until  the  vehicles  rocked  up  and  down  as  if 
at  sea.  If  you  would  form  an  idea  of  this  procession, 
picture  to  yourself  a  multitude  of  naked  brigands 
armed  with  swords,  pistols,  saws,  old  halberds, 
marching  without  any  order,  crying,  screaming, 
preceded  by  a  monster,  a  tiger  whom  the  Paris 
municipality  had  long  been  searching  for,  a  man  with 
a  long  beard  who  hitherto  had  acted  as  an  artist's 
model,  and  who,  since  the  beginning  of  the  disturb- 
ances, has  abandoned  himself  to  his  passion  for 
murder,  and  who  with  his  own  hand  had  cut  off  the 
heads  of  the  unhappy  victims  of  popular  fury. 
When  one  remembers  that  these  were  the  same 
people  who,  at  six  o'clock  that  morning,  had  over- 
powered the  sentinels  at  the  foot  of  the  marble  staircase, 
hacked  open  the  doors  of  the  ante-rooms,  and  pene- 
trated to  the  very  spot  where  the  brave  soldier  stood 
out  long  enough  to  give  his  queen  time  to  escape, 
when  one  remembers  that  this  terrible  band  ran  up 
and  down  the  streets  of  Versailles  the  whole  night 
long,  we  are  forced  to  realize  that  we  owed  our  lives 
to  Providence.  The  knowledge  that  the  danger  is 
past  gives  one  courage  to  face  the  future.  People 
now  realize  that  the  horrible  events  of  which  I  have 
just  drawn  you  such  a  poor  picture  were  the  result  of 
the  blackest,  most  fearful  conspiracies.  The  city  of 
Paris  is  about  to  search  for  the  authors ;  but  I  doubt 
whether  they  will  all  be  discovered,  and  I  fancy  that 
posterity  alone  will  know  the  truth  about  these 
horrible  mysteries. 

"The    severity   of    martial    law,    the   prodigious 
activity  of  the  chiefs  of  the  army,  and  of  the  town 

99 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

municipality,  the  affection,  the  veneration  of  the 
inhabitants  of  the  capital  for  the  members  of  the 
august  family  who  have  now  come  to  shut  themselves 
up  within  their  walls,  and  who  are  quite  determined 
to  remain  there  until  the  new  Constitution  has  been 
concluded — these  are  our  only  consolations. 

*'  The  queen's  Court  has  been  well  attended  since 
her  return  to  Paris.  She  and  the  king  dine  in  public 
thrice  a  week ;  cards  are  played  on  those  days. 
Although  the  rooms  are  small,  all  Paris  flocks  thither. 
She  converses  with  the  commanders  of  the  different 
districts  ;  she  finds  suitable  occasions  on  which  to  say 
polite  things  even  to  the  humble  fusileers,  among 
whom,  however,  are  citizens  of  aristocratic  birth  as 
well  as  the  poorest  artisans :  gentleness,  resignation, 
courage,  charm,  popularity — she  leaves  nothing  un- 
done in  order  to  pacify  the  different  parties  and 
re-establish  order ;  everybody  does  justice  to  her 
touching  anxiety  to  please,  which  compensates  for  the 
cruel  trials  endured,  for  the  horrible  risks  encountered. 
In  general,  nothing  could  be  wiser  or  more  popular 
than  the  conduct  of  the  king  and  queen ;  their 
partisans  daily  increase  in  number.  Nearly  all 
classes  speak  with  enthusiasm  of  it.  I  myself  have 
lost  much,  but  I  am  extremely  flattered  to  think  that 
I  am  attached  to  the  person  of  a  princess  who  in 
adversity  has  developed  such  a  magnanimous  and 
generous  disposition ;  she  is  an  angel  of  gentleness 
and  kindness ;  she  is  wonderfully  courageous.  I 
hope  that  the  clouds  caused  by  the  impure  breath 
of  calumny  will  dissolve ;  and  when  one  is  as  young 
as  the  queen,  one  can  still  hope  to  regain  in  history 
and  in  the  eyes  of  posterity  that  high  place  which 

lOO 


THE  END  OF  A  E)YNASTY 

nobody  can  deny  her  whboiic  b5?4g^g^}fty-'p(  injustice. 
Princes  assailed  by  vices  and  weaknesses  in  their  old 
age  have  often  shown  fleeting  signs  of  virtue  in  their 
youth  ;  but  their  last  years  efface  the  memory  of  their 
early  days,  and  they  carry  down  to  the  grave  the 
hatred   and    scorn    of    their    subjects.     How   many 
happy  years  our  amiable  sovereign  still  has  to  live  ! 
She  is  sure  to  win  applause  when  she  obeys  her  own 
conscience.     She  has  just  given  a  proof  of  this  at  a 
most  critical  moment ;   and    Paris  imbued  with  the 
most   seditious   opinions,    Paris  which    is   constantly 
reading    the    most   disgusting    libels,    cannot   refuse 
the  admiration  due  to  courage,  to  presence  of  mind, 
and  to  natural  charm.     Her  worst  enemies  can  only 
say  :  *  We  must  confess  that  she  possesses  presence 
of  mind.'     I   cannot  tell  you  how  anxious  I   am  to 
know  what  the  foreign  Courts  think  of  this  interesting 
princess.     Have  those  fearful  libels  reached  you  yet  ? 
Do  people  in  Russia  believe  that  Mme  Lamotte  was 
ever  the  queen's  friend  ?     Do  people  believe  all  the 
odious  tales  concerning  that  infernal  conspiracy  ?     I 
hope  not.      I  am  for  ever  thinking  of  the  justice  and 
reparation  due  to  that  princess.     I  should  go  crazy  if 
I   were  a  little  younger,   and   if  my  head  were   as 
sensitive  as  my  heart.     I  have  known  her  for  fifteen 
years  devoted  to  her  august  spouse,  to  her  children, 
kind  to  her   servitors,   unfortunately  too  polite,   too 
simple,  too  familiar  with  her  courtiers.     I  cannot  bear 
to  hear  her  character   taken  away.     I    wish   I    had 
a  hundred  tongues,  I  wish  I  had  wings,  I  wish  I  could 
convince  those  who  are  all  too  prone  to  believe  lies ; 
let  us  wait  a  little.  ..." 

Mme  Campan  in  the  above  letter  mentions  that 

lOI 


TH?:  CEI^EBJlATEi)  MADAME  CAMPAN 

the  que<iil  w^srtpo  J'amiliar  with  her  courtiers — and 
with  her  hairdresser  too,  as  we  have  already  seen. 
Leonard  prides  himself  in  his  memoirs  upon  the  fact 
that  he  was  chosen  by  his  royal  mistress,  after  her 
arrival  in  Paris,  to  return  to  Versailles  and  fetch  some 
important  papers  which  she  had  left  behind  her.  On 
this  occasion  he  acted  with  great  discretion.  He 
describes  the  palace  of  Versailles  after  the  departure 
of  the  Parisians  thus  : — 

"  I  beheld  Louis  xvi,  his  spouse,  his  sister,  his 
children,  torn  from  that  palace,  the  birthplace  of 
twenty  members  of  his  family,  and  led  practically 
prisoners  to  Paris,  escorted  by  eighty  thousand 
drunken,  ragged  pretorians.  I  beheld  that  Court,  but 
lately  so  magnificent,  take  up  its  abode  in  the  Tuileries, 
where  the  first  necessaries  of  life  were  still  lacking. 
I  saw  the  most  sensitive  princess  in  the  world,  her 
eyes  inflamed  and  filled  with  tears,  seated  beside  a 
smoky  fireplace  in  which  no  fire  had  been  lighted  for 
sixty-six  years.  I  watched  her  waiting-women  nail 
curtains  over  the  doors  of  her  apartment — they  fre- 
quently hit  their  own  fingers  during  the  operation — so 
as  to  keep  out  the  draughts  which  penetrated  through 
the  warped  wood.  With  my  heart  filled  with  pity  for 
the  sovereigns  of  the  most  splendid  kingdom  in  the 
world,  I  returned  to  Versailles  in  order  to  fetch  a 
number  of  articles  which  the  queen  required. 

"  On  reaching  the  palace  I  found  it  deserted  except 
for  a  few  servants  too  old  to  hurry  away,  and  perhaps 
loath  to  leave  the  palace  where  they  had  been  born, 
and  where  they  had  hoped  to  die.  .  .  .  Silence  reigned 
supreme ;  everywhere  I  saw  traces  of  sudden  flight, 
articles  forgotten  or  overlooked.     I  gathered  together 

I02 


A  DELICATE  MISSION 

in  the  queen's  apartments  many  valuable  objects : 
portraits,  documents  the  contents  of  which  I  will 
never  divulge.  I  had  orders  to  look  everywhere, 
take  anything,  read  everything,  because  her  Majesty 
was  well  aware  that  Leonard  knew  how  to  forget 
when  necessary.  .  .  .  Nothing  had  been  touched  in 
Marie  Antoinette's  room  since  her  flight:  the  robe 
which  her  Majesty  wore  on  the  night  of  October  6,^ 
the  fichu  under  which  her  breast  had  beat  so  violently 
on  the  approach  of  the  Parisian  gang,  the  silk  stockings 
half  turned  inside  out  just  as  she  had  taken  them  off 
on  retiring  to  rest ;  and  under  Marie  Antoinette's  bed 
I  found  the  slippers  which  Maria  Theresa's  daughter 
had  not  had  time  to  put  on,  for  the  unfortunate 
princess  had  only  just  escaped  the  assassins'  daggers. 
...  I  saw  the  gilded  panels  of  the  door  all  broken, 
and  the  parquet  covered  with  splinters.  The  wind 
was  whistling  through  the  huge  gap  made  by  the 
brigands  in  order  to  effect  an  entrance.  They  had 
smashed  the  mirrors  with  the  butt-ends  of  their 
muskets,  doubtless  in  order  to  punish  the  innocent 
crystal  for  having  reflected  the  features  of  the  woman 
they  could  not  murder.  .  .  .  They  had  glutted  their 
fury  on  her  Majesty's  bed  ;  furious  at  finding  it  still 
warm,  they  had  riddled  mattress,  curtains,  sheets,  and 
quilt  with  the  bullets  intended  for  that  princess's  fair 
breast. 

"  Before  getting  into  the  carriage  which  was  to 
take  me  back  to  Paris  I  paused,  sad  and  pensive,  in 
the  middle  of  that  vast  courtyard  through  which, 
during  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  years,  long  pro- 
cessions  of  nobles,  ambitious,   greedy  courtiers,  but 

1  The  date  should  be  October  5-6. 
103 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

seldom  moved,  alas !  by  generous  sentiments,  had 
passed  and  repassed  on  the  way  to  their  habitat,  the 
Court. 

*'  The  huge  deserted  place  was  no  longer  filled 
with  soldiers  ;  the  sentry-boxes  were  empty,  the  gates 
open  to  all  comers.  .  .  .  And  farther  on,  that  imposing 
mass  of  pavilions  and  galleries,  that  colossus  of  stone 
erected  by  the  magnificent  Louis  xiv  at  such  enormous 
expense,  *  that  Versailles  built  of  louis  cCor'  as  Saint- 
Simon  termed  it,  was  now  nothing  but  a  silent, 
melancholy  desert.  I  knew  that  the  queen  was 
anxiously  awaiting  my  return,  and  I  regretted  having 
prolonged  the  suspense  in  which  her  Majesty  was 
plunged.  ...  I  made  up  for  this  delay  by  ordering 
the  coachman  to  drive  as  quickly  as  possible.  We 
did  the  drive  between  the  palace  of  Versailles  and 
the  Tuileries  in  less  than  an  hour. 

"  I  found  Marie  Antoinette  striding  up  and  down 
her  room ;  she  was  waiting  for  me.  She  wished  to  be 
alone  to  receive  me.  Mme  la  princesse  de  Lamballe 
and  Mme  Campan,  both  offended,  I  fancy,  at  being 
kept  out  of  a  secret  which  had  been  imparted  to  the 
hairdresser  Leonard,  were  in  a  little  salon  adjoining. 
.  .  .  They  pretended  not  to  see  me  when  I  passed 
through  the  room.  These  ladies  were  doubtless  un- 
aware that  there  are  secrets  in  a  woman's  life  which  she 
would  rather  confide  to  a  hundred  men  than  to  one 
member  of  her  own  sex.  Do  not  let  my  readers  think 
that  it  was  a  case  of  susceptibility — oh  !  no,  the  secrets 
which  women  confide  to  one  another  usually  concern 
wounded  vanity.  .  .  .  The  sex  is  so  fashioned  that 
you  will  far  more  often  see  a  woman  blush  for  a  slight 
endured  than  for  her  own  faults. 

104 


HAIRDRESSER  TURNED  PHILOSOPHER 

"*Ah!  there  you  are  at  last,'  cried  the  queen, 
hurrying  up  to  me  as  soon  as  she  saw  me  enter  the 
room.     '  And  have  you  got  everything  ? ' 

**  *  Everything  I  could  find,  Madame.' 

** '  Let  me  see,  let  me  see  ! ' 

**  I  showed  her  Majesty  what  I  had  found  in  her 
apartments.  She  did  not  attempt  to  conceal  her 
agitation  while  examining  the  different  articles  ;  then 
suddenly  I  beheld  her  face  resume  its  expression  of 
sweet  serenity  while  she  said  to  me  with  a  smile : 

"  'Good,  good,  Leonard,  they  are  all  here.* 

*'  *  How  glad  I  am,  Madame,  to  have  been  chosen 
by  Fate  to  fulfil  your  wishes  ! ' 

**  *  It  has  always  been  your  custom  to  do  more 
than  I  required  of  you.  Here  are  some  jewels  which 
I  never  expected  to  see  again  after  the  invasion  of 
those  brigands.'  ..." 

Leonard  concludes  the  anecdote  with  the  following 
remark : — 

"  Marie  Antoinette  was  not  a  good  judge  of 
character.  I  myself  was  not  at  all  surprised  to  find 
that  the  men  who  had  forced  their  way  into  her  room 
had  not  stolen  her  diamonds.  .  .  .  Two  great  passions 
seldom  dwell  together  in  the  human  heart.  The 
assassins  of  October  6  obeyed  their  thirst  for 
vengeance ;  now,  of  all  our  passions,  vengeance  is  the 
least  likely  to  be  influenced  by  other  motives,  and 
cupidity  is  seldom  found  in  company  with  it.  .  .  . 
The  spirit  of  revenge  is  too  occupied  with  its  object 
not  to  be  disinterested." 


los 


CHAPTER  VI 

The  royal  family  at  the  Tuileries — The  Favras  affair— The  comte 
d'Inisdal  endeavours  to  save  the  king — Rumours  are  circulated  that 
the  queen  is  about  to  be  poisoned — A  demonstration  of  affection — 
Mme  Campan  acts  as  the  king's  secretary — The  insurrection  at 
Nancy — The  queen's  dislike  for  M.  de  Lafayette — Mme  Campan  is 
asked  to  make  a  sacrifice — Mesdames  leave  France. 

While  many  looked  upon  the  arrival  of  the  royal 
family  in  the  capital  as  the  dawn  of  another  Golden 
Age,  those  who  were  calm  enough  or  courageous 
enough  to  reflect  upon  the  events  of  the  last  few 
months  knew  that  it  was  the  beginning  of  the  end. 

"  It  is  finished  !  "  Camille  Desmoulins  announced 
in  one  of  his  witty  numbers. 

The  habits  of  the  royal  family  in  their  new  abode 
had  undergone  a  radical  change.  The  king,  unable  to 
indulge  his  passion  for  hunting,  amused  himself  making 
locks  and  keys.  Marie  Antoinette  passed  her  time 
receiving  visitors,  including  her  old  friends  from  the 
markets.  These  ladies  came  in  perspiring  crowds, 
smelling  strongly  of  peppermint,  carrying  huge 
bouquets  and  bundles  of  speeches  with  which  they 
alternately  fanned  themselves  or  flourished  in  each 
others'  faces,  obstinately  refusing  to  be  bowed  out 
until  they  had  read  every  word,  down  to  the  very  last 
name  with  a  clumsily  made  cross  beside  it. 

Numerous  plans  were  made  to  save  the  king  and 
his  family,  and  were  prompdy  discovered.     The  most 

1 06 


QUEEN'S  LACK  OF  MORAL  COURAGE 

energetic  leader  of  one  of  these  plots,  which  was  said 
not  only  to  aim  at  abducting  the  king  but  also  at 
assassinating  Lafayette,  Necker,  and  Bailly,  was 
Thomas  Mahi,  marquis  de  Favras,  a  lieutenant  in 
the  bodyguard  of  Monsieur,  the  comte  de  Provence, 
in  whose  hands  he  was  merely  a  tool.  M.  de  Favras, 
throughout  his  imprisonment  and  trial,  when  he  might 
have  saved  his  own  life  by  denouncing  Monsieur, 
showed  himself,  like  many  another  royalist,  to  be  a  far 
braver  man  than  his  master.  Condemned  to  death, 
February  i8,  1790,  he  was  executed  on  the  Place  de 
Greve  on  the  following  evening. 

Marie  Antoinette,  according  to  Mme  Campan,  was 
too  alarmed  for  her  own  safety  to  waste  much  pity 
upon  this  victim  of  loyalty. 

"The  queen,"  writes  she,  "did  not  conceal  from 
me  the  fact  that  she  dreaded  what  Favras  might  say 
during  his  last  moments.  On  the  Sunday  following 
the  marquis'  execution,  M.  de  Villeurnoy  came  to  tell 
me  that  he  was  going  to  bring  the  widow  Favras  and 
her  son,  clad  in  mourning  garments  for  the  brave 
Frenchman  who  had  been  sacrificed  for  his  king,  to 
be  presented  to  the  royal  family  while  they  were  at 
dinner,  when  all  the  royalists  expected  to  see  the  queen 
shower  benefits  upon  the  unhappy'man's  family.  I  did 
what  I  could  to  prevent  the  meeting.  I  foresaw  what 
an  effect  it  would  have  upon  the  queen's  sensitive 
heart,  and  the  painful  feeling  of  constraint  she  would 
experience,  knowing  that  the  horrible  Santerre,  com- 
mander of  the  battalion  of  the  Parisian  Guard,  was 
standing  behind  her  chair  throughout  the  repast.  I 
could  not  make  M.  de  Villeurnoy  view  the  matter  in 
the  same  light  as  myself ;  the  queen  was  already  at 

107 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

Mass,  surrounded  by  all  the  court,  and  I  could  not  even 
warn  her. 

*'When  the  dinner  was  over  I  heard  somebody 
knock  at  the  door  of  my  room,  which  communicated 
with  a  passage  leading  to  the  queen's  private  apart- 
ments. It  was  she  herself.  She  asked  if  I  had  any- 
body with  me.  I  was  alone.  She  flung  herself  into 
an  arm-chair  and  told  me  that  she  had  come  to  weep 
with  me  over  the  foolish  behaviour  of  certain  fool- 
hardy royalists. 

"  *  No  one  can  hope  for  salvation,*  cried  she,  *  when 
attacked  by  people  who  are  as  clever  as  they  are 
wicked,  and  defended  by  people  who  are  doubtless 
very  estimable  but  have  no  idea  of  our  real  position. 
They  have  compromised  me  with  both  parties  by 
introducing  Favras'  widow  and  son.  Had  I  been  free 
to  do  as  I  wished,  it  would  have  been  my  duty  to  take 
the  child  of  the  man  who  had  just  given  his  life  for  us 
and  place  him  between  the  king  and  myself;  but 
knowing  that  I  was  surrounded  by  the  executioners 
who  had  but  lately  beheaded  his  father,  I  did  not 
even  dare  to  glance  at  him.  The  royalists  blame  me 
for  not  having  taken  any  notice  of  the  poor  child  ; 
the  revolutionists  will  be  furious  to  think  that  certain 
persons  hoped  to  win  favour  by  introducing  him.' 

**  The  queen  then  added  that  she  knew  Mme  de 
Favras  was  in  poor  circumstances,  and  she  commanded 
me  to  send  her  on  the  morrow,  by  some  trustworthy 
person,  a  few  rolls  of  ^v^-louis  pieces,  with  the  assur- 
ance that  she  would  always  take  care  of  her  and  her 
son." 

For  a  long  time  Louis  xvi  resisted  his  partisans* 
desire  to  get  him  out  of  France.     In  the  month  of 

1 08 


PLANS  FOR  FLIGHT 

March  Mme  Campan  had  an  opportunity  to  learn  his 
real  wishes  concerning  flight. 

''  One  evening  towards  ten  o'clock,"  says  she, 
"  M.  le  comte  d'Inisdal,  deputy  for  the  nobility,  came 
to  beg  me  to  give  him  a  private  interview,  as  he  had 
something  very  important  to  tell  me.  He  informed 
me  that  the  king  was  to  be  abducted  that  very  night, 
that  the  section  of  the  National  Guard  commanded  that 
day  by  M.  Alexandre  dAumont  (brother  to  Jacques 
d'Aumont  de  Villequier,  who  had  adopted  revolutionary 
opinions)  had  been  won  over,  and  that  relays  of  horses 
provided  by  faithful  royalists  were  waiting  at  con- 
venient places  along  the  route  ;  that  he  had  just  left 
a  group  of  nobles  met  together  to  carry  the  matter 
through  ;  that  he  had  been  sent  to  me  that  I,  through 
the  queen,  might  obtain  the  king's  consent  before 
midnight ;  that,  although  the  king  knew  about  their 
plan,  his  Majesty  had  hitherto  refused  to  discuss  the 
matter,  but  that  now,  at  the  moment  of  action,  it  was 
necessary  for  him  to  give  his  consent  to  the  enter- 
prise. I  remember  that  I  greatly  displeased  the 
comte  d'Inisdal  by  expressing  my  astonishment  that 
the  nobility  should  send  for  me,  the  queen's  waiting- 
woman,  just  as  they  were  about  to  execute  this 
important  scheme,  in  order  to  obtain  the  consent 
which  should  have  formed  the  starting-point  of  any 
well-laid  plot.  I  told  him  that  it  was  impossible  for 
me  to  go  to  the  queen  just  then  without  my  presence 
being  remarked,  that  the  king  was  playing  cards  with 
his  family,  and  that  I  never  appeared  unless  I  was 
summoned.  I  added,  however,  that  M.  Campan  was 
free  to  go  down,  and  that  if  M.  d'Inisdal  would  confide 
in  him,  he  could  count  upon  his  discretion.     My  father- 

109 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMP  AN 

in-law,  to  whom  the  comte  d'Inisdal  repeated  all 
he  had  just  said  to  me,  undertook  the  mission  and 
went  to  the  queen's  apartments.  The  king  was  play- 
ing whisk  ^  with  the  queen,  Monsieur y  and  Madame  ; 
Madame  Elisabeth  was  leaning  on  a  voyeuse  ^  near  the 
card-table. 

*' M.  Campan  repeated  M.  d'lnisdal's  message  to 
the  queen.  Nobody  uttered  a  word.  The  queen  then 
began  to  speak,  and  said  to  the  king  : 

**  *  Monsieur,  did  you  hear  what  Campan  has  just 
told  us  } ' 

***Yes,  I  heard,'  replied  the  king,  continuing  to 

play. 

^^  Monsieur,  who  was  in  the  habit  of  making 
amusing  quotations,  said  to  my  father-in-law : 

**  *  M.  Campan,  repeat,  I  pray,  that  pretty  tune ! ' 
and  then  requested  the  king  to  reply. 

*'  At  last  the  queen  said  : 

**  *  You  must  say  something  to  Campan.* 

"  The  king  then  addressed  the  following  words  to 
my  father-in-law  : 

"  *  Tell  M.  d'Inisdal  that  I  cannot  consent  to  being 
abducted. 

'*  The  queen  enjoined  upon  M.  Campan  to  repeat 
this  reply  word  for  word. 

"  *  You  hear,'  added  she,  *  the  king  cannot  consent 
to  being  abducted.' 

**  M.  le  comte  d'Inisdal  was  very  annoyed  with 
the  king's  reply,  and  left  saying : 

"  *  I  see  he  wants  to  throw  all  the  blame  upon  his 
devoted  servants.' 

"  He  went  off.     I  thought  that  the  project  had 

*  Whisk :  a  corruption  of  whist.  *  Voyeuse :  a  high-backed  chair. 

no 


THE  DANGER  INCREASES 

been  abandoned.  The  queen  remained  alone  with 
me  till  midnight  preparing  her  cash-box  ;  she  com- 
manded me  not  to  go  to  bed.  She  imagined  that 
the  king's  reply  would  be  interpreted  either  as  a  tacit 
consent,  or  as  a  refusal  to  participate  in  the  enterprise. 
I  do  not  know  what  passed  in  the  king's  chamber 
during  the  night,  but  I  looked  at  his  windows  from 
time  to  time.  Nobody  kept  watch  in  the  garden. 
I  could  hear  no  sound  in  the  palace,  and  the  break  of 
dawn  convinced  me  that  the  project  had  been 
abandoned. 

"  *  We  shall  have  to  flee,  however,'  said  the  queen 
to  me  some  time  afterwards  ;  *  nobody  knows  to  what 
lengths  the  factionists  will  go.  The  danger  increases 
from  day  to  day.'  .  .  ." 

In  the  month  of  May  1790,  among  the  many 
important  questions  discussed  at  the  various  clubs, 
was  one  of  the  keenest  interest  to  the  new-born  party. 
Alexandre  de  Lameth  at  the  Assemblde  nationale 
voiced  that  question  thus  : — 

"  Ought  a  powerful  nation  to  allow  the  king  to 
make  peace  or  war  ?  " 

The  Empress  Catherine  had  no  doubts  upon  the 
matter  when  she  wrote  about  this  time  to  Marie 
Antoinette :  **  Kings  must  go  on  their  way  without 
allowing  themselves  to  be  troubled  by  the  cries  of  the 
people,  as  the  moon  follows  her  course  heedless  of  the 
barking  of  dogs." 

Mme  Campan  accompanied  her  mistress  when,  in 
the  following  month,  the  royal  family  went  to  Saint- 
Cloud. 

Plans  for  escape  became  more  numerous.  Now 
was  the  time  for  the  king  to  flee  if  he  ever  meant  to 

III 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMP  AN 

do  so,  for  the  royal  family  were  allowed  to  take  long 
drives  in  the  country,  and  night  frequently  fell  before 
they  returned  to  the  palace.  On  one  occasion  they 
were  so  late  coming  home  that  Mme  Campan  really 
thought  that  they  had  managed  to  get  rid  of  the  escort 
which  always  accompanied  them,  and  that  she  should 
see  her  mistress  no  more. 

*' I  thought  they  had  gone,"  she  says,  "and  I 
scarcely  dared  breathe,  so  great  was  my  anxiety, 
when  I  suddenly  heard  the  carriages  returning.  I 
confessed  to  the  queen  that  I  thought  she  had  fled. 
She  told  me  that  they  must  wait  until  Mesdames  had 
left  France,  and  then  see  if  their  plans  agreed  with 
those  of  their  friends  abroad." 

Both  parties  imagined  that  plots  were  everywhere  ; 
whereas  the  revolutionists  were  constantly  on  the 
watch  for  attempts  to  save  the  king,  the  royal  family 
believed  that  people  were  trying  to  poison  them. 
One  of  the  king's  partisans  having,  as  he  imagined, 
discovered  a  plot  to  poison  Marie  Antoinette,  he 
begged  her  to  take  every  precaution  in  eating  and 
drinking. 

'*  The  queen  mentioned  this  plot  to  me  without 
betraying  the  slightest  emotion,"  wrote  Mme  Campan, 
**  as  well  as  to  her  physician-in-chief,  M.  Vicq  d'Azyr. 
He  and  I  concerted  together  concerning  what  pre- 
cautions we  ought  to  take.  He  had  entire  confi- 
dence in  the  queen's  abstemiousness ;  nevertheless 
he  recommended  me  always  to  have  at  hand  a  little 
bottle  of  oil  of  sweet  almonds,  this  oil,  as  is  well  known, 
being  one  of  the  most  efficacious  counter-poisons 
for  lesions  caused  by  corrosives,  which  I  was  to  renew 
from  time  to  time.     The  queen  had  one  habit  which 

112 


MME  CAMPAN  TAKES  PRECAUTIONS 

made  M.  Vicq  d'Azyr  particularly  anxious  :  a  bowl  of 
powdered  sugar  was  always  kept  on  a  chest  of  drawers 
in  her  Majesty's  room ;  and  often,  when  she  was 
thirsty,  she  would  mix  herself  a  glass  of  sugar  and 
water  without  troubling  to  summon  any  of  her  ladies. 
It  was  arranged  that  I  was  to  grate  a  large  quantity 
of  sugar  in  my  own  room,  that  I  was  always  to  keep 
some  little  packets  of  it  in  my  reticule,  and  that  three 
or  four  times  a  day,  whenever  I  found  myself  alone 
in  her  Majesty's  room,  I  was  to  empty  the  bowl  and 
put  in  fresh  sugar.  We  knew  that  the  queen,  for 
some  unknown  reason,  disliked  all  precautions.  One 
day  she  ..aught  me  making  the  above-mentioned 
change  ;  she  told  me  that  she  presumed  that  I  and 
M.  Vicq  d'Azyr  had  arranged  the  matter  between  us, 
but  that  I  was  giving  myself  a  great  deal  of  trouble 
for  nothing.  'Remember,'  added  she,  'that  nobody 
will  waste  a  single  grain  of  poison  on  me.  There  are 
no  Brinvilllers  ^  alive  to-day  ;  calumny  kills  much  more 
quickly,  and  they  will  use  calumny  to  kill  me.'  ..." 

However  the  queen  still  had  many  friends. 
During  this  same  visit  to  Saint-Cloud,  Mme  Campan 
witnessed  a  touching  scene,  so  touching,  indeed,  that 
twenty  years  later  the  tears  still  came  into  her  eyes 
when  she  thought  of  it. 

**  It  was  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,"  says  she, 
**  the  guard  was  off  duty  ;  there  was  hardly  anybody 
that  day  at  Saint-Cloud,  and  I  was  reading  to  the 
queen,  who  was  seated  at  her  embroidery  frame  in  a 
room  with  a  balcony  overlooking  the  courtyard.  The 
windows  were  closed,  which  did  not  prevent  us,  how- 

^  The  Marquise  de  Brinvilliers,  the  celebrated  poisoner,  who  was  first 
tortured  and  then  executed  in  Paris  in  1676. 

H  113 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

ever,  hearing  a  noise  like  the  sound  of  many  voices 
whispering.  The  queen  told  me  to  go  and  see  what 
was  happening.  I  lifted  the  muslin  curtain  and  beheld 
more  than  fifty  persons  standing  beneath  the  balcony  ; 
they  included  young  and  old  women,  cleanly  and 
neatly  dressed  in  the  costume  of  the  country,  besides 
elderly  knights  of  the  order  of  Saint  Louis,  young 
knights  of  Malta,  and  a  few  ecclesiastics.  I  told  the 
queen  that  they  were  probably  members  of  some 
neighbouring  families  who  wanted  to  see  her.  She 
arose,  opened  the  window  and  appeared  upon  the 
balcony  ;  whereupon  these  good  people  said  to  her  in 
a  low  tone  : — 

**  *  Be  brave,  Madame,  all  good  French  people 
suffer  for,  and  with  you.  They  pray  for  you  ;  Heaven 
will  hear  their  prayers.  We  love  you,  we  repeat,  and 
we  revere  our  virtuous  king.' 

**The  queen  burst  into  tears  and  held  her  hand- 
kerchief to  her  face. 

"  *  Poor  queen !  she  is  crying  !  '  said  the  women 
and  girls.  But  the  fear  of  compromising  her  Majesty 
and  the  persons  who  loved  her  so,  prompted  me  to 
take  her  hand  and  sign  to  her  that  I  wanted  her  to 
return  to  her  room.  I  then  informed  these  estimable 
people  that  my  conduct  was  dictated  by  prudence. 
They  evidently  agreed  with  me,  for  I  heard  them  say  : 
'  That  lady  is  right ! '  and  then  :  *  Adieu,  Madame  ! ' 
uttered  in  tones  of  such  grief  and  sincerity  that  even 
now,  twenty  years  after  this  event,  my  heart  still 
aches  at  the  thought  of  it." 

During  the  month  of  September  1790,  the  king 
gave  Mme  Campan  a  signal  proof  of  his  confidence 
when    he   employed    her   as   his   secretary    on    the 

J14 


THE  INSURRECTION  AT  NANCY 

occasion  of  the  insurrection  at  Nancy.  The  former 
residence  of  Stanislas,  king  of  Poland,  then  had  as 
military  governor,  M.  de  Noue,  a  royalist  by  birth 
and  education.  Now  three  of  the  regiments  quartered 
at  Nancy,  viz.  the  cavalry  regiment  of  Mestre  de 
Camp  and  the  two  infantry  regiments  of  Chateau- 
Vieux  and  du  Roi,  were  noted  for  their  '*  patriotism," 
that  is  to  say,  for  their  enthusiam  for  the  new  opinions, 
which  opinions  exposed  the  unfortunate  men  to  all 
sorts  of  vexations  and  humiliations  ;  when  they  dared 
to  complain,  they  were  called  "  brigands "  and 
"traitors,"  and  two  of  the  leaders  were  flogged. 
While  M.  de  Noue  was  writing  to  the  Assemblde 
complaining  of  the  indiscipline  of  ^the  troops,  the 
soldiers  sent  eight  of  their  number  up  to  Paris  to  lay 
the  real  facts  of  the  case  before  the  government.  The 
little  deputation  found  on  its  arrival,  however,  that  a 
decree  had  just  been  passed  by  which  all  soldiers 
convicted  of  insubordination  and  not  confessing-  their 
error  within  twenty-four  hours,  were  to  be  treated  as 
guilty  of  high  treason  against  the  nation.  The 
deputation,  by  Lafayette's  orders,  was  immediately 
thrown  into  prison.  The  patriots  of  Nancy,  indignant 
at  this  unjust  treatment  of  their  ambassadors,  sent 
another  deputation  composed  of  members  of  the 
National  Guard  of  their  town  ;  these  men  were  more 
lucky,  for  this  time  they  were  allowed,  notwithstand- 
ing Lafayette's  protests,  to  explain  their  grievances, 
whereupon  two  members  of  the  Assemblde^  thanks  to 
the  intervention  of  Barnave  and  Robespierre,  were 
sent  to  Nancy  in  order  to  examine  the  assertions  of 
both  parties.  Unfortuately  the  soldiers  in  the  former 
refuge  of  Stanislas,  king  of  Poland,  without  waiting 

115 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

to  hear  what  success  their  second  deputation  had 
obtained,  took  the  reins  into  their  own  hands  on  the 
very  day  this  decree  was  passed  (August  31,  1790), 
and,  supported  by  the  populace,  rebelled,  and  threw 
into  prison  de  Noue  and  Malseigne,  the  latter  a  brutal 
officer  sent  by  the  AssembUe  to  keep  peace  in  the 
town.  On  learning  of  this  insurrection,  the  marquis 
de  Bouill^  decided  to  march  upon  Nancy  and  quell 
the  rebellion.  Arrived  outside  the  gates  of  the  town, 
he  demanded  the  liberation  of  de  Noue  and  Malseigne 
and  the  departure  of  the  three  guilty  regiments,  four 
members  of  each  regiment  to  suffer  whatever  punish- 
ment the  government  should  decree.  The  revolu- 
tionists had  already  released  the  unpopular  governor, 
and  were  discussing  among  themselves  who  were  to 
be  the  scapegoats  when  de  Bouill6  tried  to  force  his 
way  through  the  Porte  Stanislas.  The  soldiers, 
indignant  at  this  treatment,  resisted  the  invader  for 
some  time ;  however  de  Bouill^'s  numerous  army 
soon  put  an  end  to  the  siege  and  burst  into  the  town  ; 
that  night  the  streets  of  Nancy  ran  red  with  blood, 
3000  persons,  including  400  women,  paid  for  the 
rebellion  with  their  lives.  The  AssembUe,  on  learning 
of  de  Bouille's  energetic  repression,  passed  a  vote  of 
thanks  notwithstanding  Robespierre's  protests.  As  a 
further  punishment,  thirty-two  soldiers  of  the  regiment 
of  Chateau-Vieux  were  shot  and  forty-two  sent  to  the 
galleys  for  thirty  years.  This  sentence,  however,  was 
annulled  by  subsequent  events.  Before  many  months 
had  passed,  an  amnesty  was  proclaimed  in  favour  of 
some  of  the  condemned  ;  Collot  d'Herbois' eloquence 
in  December  1791  released  the  remainder.  The 
month  of  April  1792  saw  the  insurrectionists  of  Nancy 

116 


THE  INSURRECTION  AT  NANCY 

transformed  into  popular  heroes.  On  the  9th  of  that 
month  the  Fete  d assassins,  as  the  royalist  Dupont 
de  Nemours  termed  it,  took  place.  The  soldiers 
of  Chateau- Vieux  were  led  in  triumph  by  Collot 
d'Herbois  to  the  Assembl^e  legislative  and  publicly 
complimented  on  their  behaviour,  and  on  the  15th 
a  magnificent  banquet  was  given  to  the  patriots,  when 
Marie  Joseph  Ch^nier's  Hyrnne  a  la  Liber t4  was 
sung. 

Mme  Campan  seems  to  think  that  there  was  some 
mystery  about  this  insurrection.  *'  There  was  another 
cause,"  says  she,  "which  I  might  have  discovered  if 
the  state  of  anxiety  in  which  I  found  myself  at  that 
time  had  not  deprived  me  of  my  understanding. 
I  will  endeavour  to  explain  what  I  mean.  One  day 
in  the  beginning  of  September  the  queen,  on  retiring 
to  rest,  commanded  me  to  dismiss  her  ladies  and  to 
remain  with  her ;  when  we  were  alone,  she  said 
to  me : — 

'*  *  The  king  will  be  here  at  midnight.  You  know 
that  he  has  always  trusted  you ;  he  shows  his  confi- 
dence in  you  by  choosing  you  to  write  at  his  dictation 
an  account  of  the  affair  at  Nancy.  He  wants  several 
copies.' 

**  The  king  entered  the  queen's  room  at  midnight 
and  said  to  me  with  a  smile  : — 

"  *  You  did  not  expect  to  act  as  my  secretary,  and 
certainly  not  at  night-time.' 

"  I  followed  the  king ;  he  took  me  into  the  Salle 
du  Conseil ;  here  I  found  a  quire  of  paper,  an  inkstand 
and  some  pens  all  ready  prepared.  He  sat  down 
beside  me  and  dictated  to  me  the  marquis  de  Bouill^'s 
report,  at  the  same  time  making  a  copy  with  his  own 

117 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

hand.  My  hand  trembled,  I  could  scarcely  write  ;  so 
many  thoughts  surged  through  my  brain,  that  I  could 
scarcely  listen  to  the  king.  The  big  table,  the  velvet 
carpet,  the  chairs  which  were  only  used  by  the 
sovereign's  councillors,  the  knowledge  of  what  this 
place  had  been,  what  it  was  then  when  the  king  was 
employing  a  woman  for  a  service  which  lay  so  entirely 
out  of  the  usual  sphere  of  her  duties  ;  the  misfortunes 
which  had  forced  him  to  have  recourse  to  her  services  ; 
the  evils  which  my  affection  and  my  anxiety  for  my 
sovereign  caused  me  to  foresee, — all  these  thoughts 
made  such  an  impression  upon  me  that,  on  returning 
to  the  queen's  apartments,  I  could  neither  close  my 
eyes  for  the  rest  of  the  night,  nor  remember  a  word  of 
what  I  had  just  written." 

Many  people,  seeing  how  confidentially  Mme 
Campan  was  treated,  endeavoured  to  make  use  of 
her  for  their  own  ends.  Her  salon  was  besieged  by 
politicians.  One  evening  in  the  month  of  November 
she  found  on  her  return  from  the  Tuileries  no  less  an 
important  personage  than  the  prince  de  Poix  waiting 
to  see  her. 

"  He  told  me,"  says  she,  "that  he  had  come  to 
beg  me  to  help  him  regain  his  peace  of  mind ;  that 
in  the  early  days  of  the  Assemble  nationale  he  had 
allowed  himself  to  be  led  astray  by  the  hope  of  seeing 
certain  matters  mended ;  that  he  now  blushed  for  his 
folly  and  detested  those  schemes  which  had  already 
had  such  fatal  results ;  that  he  was  now  going  to 
break  off  for  ever  with  these  innovators ;  that  he  had 
just  handed  in  his  resignation  as  deputy  to  the 
AssembUe  nationale,  and  that  he  wished  the  queen  to 
be  informed  of  his  conduct  before  she  retired  to  rest. 

ii8 


MARIE'S  DISLIKE  OF  LAFAYETTE 

I  accepted  his  commission  and  fulfilled  it  to  the  best 
of  my  ability,  but  without  success.  The  prince  de 
Poix  continued  to  remain  at  Court,  where  he  had  to 
endure  much  unpleasantness ;  however,  he  served  the 
king  on  many  subsequent  and  perilous  occasions  with 
all  the  zeal  for  which  his  family  had  always  been  dis- 
tinguished." 

Mme  Campan  shared  Marie  Antoinette's  dislike 
of  Lafayette.  On  one  occasion  a  member  of  the 
queen's  household  called  him  a  ''rebel"  and  a 
"brigand,"  and  expressed  a  hope  that  her  mistress 
would  not  trust  him.     Mme  Campan  says  : — 

**  The  queen  remarked  that  he  certainly  deserved 
the  first  appellation,  but  that  history  usually  gave  the 
title  of  leader  to  any  man  commanding  forty  thousand 
troops  who  was  practically  master  of  the  capital ;  that 
kings  had  often  found  it  expedient  to  treat  with  such 
leaders ;  and  that  if  it  pleased  our  queen  to  do  so,  we 
could  only  keep  silent  and  respect  her  wishes.  On  the 
morrow  the  queen,  in  a  sad  but  extremely  kind  tone, 
asked  me  what  I  had  said  on  the  previous  evening 
concerning  M.  de  Lafayette,  adding  that  she  had  been 
assured  that  I  had  imposed  silence  upon  her  ladies 
with  whom  he  was  not  popular,  and  that  I  had  taken 
his  part.  I  repeated  to  the  queen  word  for  word  all 
that  had  passed  between  us.  She  was  so  gracious  as 
to  say  that  I  had  been  perfectly  right.  ..." 

Mme  Campan's  desire  to  serve  her  mistress  forced 
her  to  be  very  particular  whom  she  received  in  her 
own  house.  Nevertheless  her  "enemies,"  as  she 
calls  them,  informed  the  queen  in  the  autumn  of  1 790 
that  her  waiting-woman  was  on  intimate  terms  with 
M.  de  Beaumetz,  reported  to  be  a  noted  supporter  of 

119 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

the  new  opinions.  Now  as  it  happened,  Mme  Campan 
had  intimated  to  that  poHtician,  after  Balthasar's  Feast, 
that  he  had  better  discontinue  his  visits  to  her  ;  so  she 
was  much  surprised  one  day  on  receiving  the  following 
note  from  the  queen  who  was  then  at  Saint-Cloud  : — 
"  Come  to  Saint-Cloud  immediately  ;  I  have  some- 
thing to  tell  you  which  concerns  you." 

On  entering  the  queen's  boudoir,  Marie  Antoinette 
told  Mme  Campan  that  she  was  about  to  ask  her  to 
make   a   sacrifice   for  her  sake ;   the  waiting-woman 
immediately  replied  that  her  mistress  need  only  speak 
and  her  wishes  should  be  obeyed.     Marie  Antoinette 
then  begged  her  to  give  up  her  friendship  with  M. 
de  Beaumetz ;  she  said  that  she  knew  it  would  be  a 
painful  sacrifice,  but  it  was  necessary  not  only  for  her 
own   sake  but    for   her   waiting-woman's    sake ;   for 
although  she  might  on  occasion  turn  the  services  of 
Mme  Campan's  witty  friend  to  good  account,  she,  as 
queen,  was  obliged  to  consider  her  waiting-woman's 
reputation.     When  Mme  Campan  inquired  the  name 
of  the  busy-body  who  had  mentioned  M.  de  Beaumetz 
to  her  queen,  the  latter  told  her  that  on  the  previous 
evening   her  ladies    had   informed   her   that    M.    de 
Beaumetz  passed  all  his  spare  time  in  Mme  Campan's 
salon.     Stifling  her  indignation,  Mme  Campan  replied 
with   a   sarcastic   smile   that  the  sacrifice  which  her 
Majesty  demanded  was  unnecessary  ;  that  the  gentle- 
man   in  question  was  scarcely  like  to  make  himself 
unpopular  with  his  new  friends  by  frequenting   the 
receptions  of  the  queen's  chief  waiting-woman  ;  and 
that  he,  at  her  request,  had  not  set  foot  in  her  drawing- 
room  since  October  1789.     She  added  that  since  that 
date  she  had  only  had  passing  glimpses  of  him  at  the 

120 


AN  ILL-CHOSEN  GIFT 

theatre  or  in  the  public  parks,  when  he  had  purposely 
avoided  her,  thus  showing  that  he  wished  to  forget 
his  old  friends — for  which  she  confessed  she  was 
thankful.  Whereupon  the  queen  interrupted  genuinely 
with  : — 

"  How  right  you  are  !  how  perfectly  right !  Your 
enemies  were  mistaken  in  thus  trying  to  injure  you 
in  my  opinion ;  but  be  most  careful  of  what  you  say 
or  do.  You  see  how  the  king  and  I  trust  you.  You 
have  powerful  enemies." 

During  the  winter  of  1790-91,  notwithstanding 
the  ever-present  dread  of  the  future  which  stalked 
like  a  ghost  through  the  palace  of  the  Tuileries,  the 
Court  was  fairly  gay,  and  the  queen  attended  many 
of  the  receptions  given  by  the  princesse  de  Lamballe. 
It  was  on  the  occasion  of  one  of  these  receptions  that 
an  English  milord,  while  seated  at  the  card-table  from 
which  the  Revolution  had  hitherto  been  unable  to  drive 
Marie  Antoinette,  displayed  with  remarkable  lack  of 
tact  and  much  ostentation  a  huge  ring  adorned  with  a 
medallion  in  which  was  a  lock  of  Oliver  Cromwell's  hair. 

On  New  Year's  Day  the  conquerors  of  the  Bastille, 
with  an  equal  lack  of  tact  and  even  more  ostentation, 
presented  the  little  Dauphin  ^  with  a  set  of  dominoes 
fashioned  from  the  stones  of  the  Bastille,  and  enclosed 
in  a  box  bearing  the  following  inscription  : — 

**  The  stones  from  those  walls  within  which 
so  many  innocent  victims  of  arbitrary  power  were 
imprisoned,  have  been  transformed  into  this  toy 
which  we  now  present  to  you,  Monseigneur,  as 
a  proof  of  your  people's  love  ^nA  powers 

^  Born  March  27,  1785,  became  Dauphin  on  the  death  of  his  elder 
brother. 

121 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

This  uncommon  plaything  Marie  Antoinette  gave 
to  Mme  Campan,  telling  her  to  keep  it  safely  as  it 
would  be  a  valuable  souvenir  of  the  Revolution  some 
day. 

Early  in  January  1791  a  rumour  was  circulated 
that  Mesdames,  the  king's  aunts,  were  plotting  to 
smuggle  the  Dauphin  out  of  France  ;  it  was  said  that 
the  child  was  to  be  hidden  in  a  secret  compartment 
in  the  ladies'  carriage,  and  another  child  of  the  same 
size  as  the  Dauphin  was  to  take  his  place  at  the 
Tuileries — a  strange  anticipation  of  the  rumours  which 
later  hovered  around  the  poor  child's  death ;  two 
thousand  gentleman  had  been  chosen  to  escort  the 
fugitives  to  the  frontier.  This  rumour  had  doubtless 
been  started  by  somebody  who  had  heard  Mesdames 
express  a  wish  to  visit  Rome.  The  Assemble  was 
informed  of  what  people  were  saying,  whereupon  it 
tried  to  force  the  king  to  order  his  aunts  to  remain 
quietly  in  France.  But  Louis  xvi  still  had  some 
courage  left ;  he  replied  : — 

"  Your  request  is  unconstitutional ;  show  me  a 
decree  from  the  Assemble  forbidding  people  to  travel 
and  I  will  forbid  my  aunts  to  go ;  until  you  can  do 
that,  they  are  as  free  to  leave  the  kingdom  as  any 
other  citizens." 

Marie  Antoinette's  friends  from  the  markets  now 
paid  a  visit  to  Bellevue.  On  that  terrible  October  6, 
Mesdames  had  accompanied  the  king  as  far  as  Sevres, 
where  they  had  contrived  to  slip  away  from  his  escort 
and  return  to  their  own  abode,  which  was  soon  after 
visited  by  some  Parisians  and  the  windows  smashed. 
So  Mesdames,  having  been  warned  of  the  projected 
visit  of  the  Dames  de   la  Halle,  wisely  went  up  to 

122 


MESDAMES  LEAVE  FRANCE 

Paris  and  spent  the  night  at  the  Tuileries.  This 
incident  probably  made  Mesdanies  desire  to  leave 
France  without  further  delay.  The  date  of  their 
departure  was  fixed  for  February  i8. 

Although  Mme  Campan  was  no  longer  in  the 
service  of  Mesdames,  she  still  kept  a  very  warm  place 
in  her  heart  for  her  first  mistresses,  who  certainly  had 
been  the  kindest  of  mentors  to  the  inexperienced  little 
lectrice, 

"  I  went  to  say  good-bye  to  Madame  Victoire," 
says  she.  **  I  did  not  think  that  I  should  never 
again  behold  this  august  and  virtuous  protectress  of 
my  youth ;  she  received  me  alone  in  her  study,  and 
assured  me  that  she  hoped  and  wished  soon  to  return 
to  France,  that  it  would  really  be  too  terrible  for  the 
French  nation  if  the  excesses  of  the  Revolution  forced 
her  to  prolong  her  absence.  Certain  persons  thought 
that  their  journey  to  Rome  would  be  attributed  to 
their  piety  ;  however,  it  would  have  been  a  difficult 
matter  to  deceive  the  AssembUe  concerning  the 
behaviour  of  the  royal  family,  and  from  that  moment 
all  that  was  said  and  done  at  the  Tuileries  was  more 
remarked  than  ever.  .  .  .  Madame  Victoire  then 
added  that  they  were  only  going  away  in  order  to 
leave  the  king  free  to  act,  which  he  would  be  better 
able  to  do  when  separated  from  his  family,  and  she 
hoped  that  the  public  would  understand  that  their 
determination  to  leave  France  was  solely  caused  by 
their  indignation  at  the  civil  constitution  of  the 
clergy.  ..." 

The  comtesse  de  Boigne  was  present  at  Mesdames 
departure,  which  took  place  February  i8,  at  eleven 
o'clock  at  night ;   with  less  cause  than   Mme  Cam- 

123 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

pan  to  regret  the  old  ladies,  she  wrote  in  her 
memoirs  : — 

"  I  think  I  can  still  see  Madame  Adelaide  with 
her  tall,  angular  figure,  her  violet  dress  with  its 
voluminous  pleats,  her  butterfly  cap,  and  her  two  long 
teeth — her  very  last !  " 

The  ladies  travelled  as  Mesdames  de  Joigny  and 
de  Rambouillet ;  the  mysterious  Louis  de  Narbonne, 
Mmes  de  Narbonne  and  de  Castellux,  were  among 
their  suite.  All  went  well  with  the  fugitives  until  they 
reached  Moret,  near  Fontainebleau ;  here  they  were 
told  to  show  their  passports.  Now  the  travellers  had 
taken  the  precaution  to  obtain  not  only  passports 
signed  by  the  king  and  countersigned  by  Montmorin, 
the  Foreign  Minister,  authorizing  them  to  go  to  Rome, 
but  also  a  declaration  from  the  Paris  municipality 
stating  that  that  body  was  powerless  to  prevent  these 
citoyennes  travelling  in  whatever  part  of  the  kingdom 
they  preferred.  While  the  authorities  at  Moret  were 
thinking  how  they  could  detain  the  old  ladies  and 
their  suite,  some  soldiers  belonging  to  the  regiment 
of  Haguenau  came  to  their  aid,  opened  the  gates  of 
the  town  and  enabled  them  to  continue  their  journey. 

At  Arnay-le-Duc,  in  the  ddpartement  of  the  Cote 
d'Or,  Mesdames  experienced  another  alarm ;  their 
carriages  were  stopped  by  the  municipality  and  they 
were  required  to  alight  amid  a  crowd  of  inquisitive  busy- 
bodies  who  were  so  impressed  by  the  old  ladies' 
stately  airs  and  graces  that  they  all  took  off  their  hats. 
One  member  of  the  municipality,  however,  kept  his 
hat  on  his  head,  on  noticing  which  Madame  Victoire, 
realizing  that  the  time  for  arrogance  had  passed, 
bestowed  one  of  her  sweetest  smiles  upon  the  offender, 

124 


Co/iyiig/if  /ly] 


Madame  Victoirk. 

From  a  paintins^  by  Guiard. 


•     •     r    •  /•    •       • 


*  •  * 

•  •    re* 


MESDAMES  ARE  DETAINED 

and,  as  she  prepared  to  enter  the  humble  inn  where 
she  was  to  be  kept  prisoner  for  eleven  days,  said  to 
him  in  a  tone  of  supplication  : — 

**  I  pray  you,  Monsieur,  give  me  your  hand  to  help 
me  up  this  dark  staircase  ! " 

The  provinces  had  still  to  learn  the  Parisians'  easy 
nonchalance  towards  royalty ;  the  man  took  off  his 
hat  and  obeyed  Madame  Victbire  as  if  he  had  been 
accustomed  to  do  so  all  his  life.  Mesdames  immedi- 
ately wrote  off  a  protest  to  the  Assembl^e,  which  was 
duly  read  and  discussed  for  four  hours,  the  witty 
Abb6  Maury,  among  others,  taking  the  fugitives' 
part.  After  a  member,  whose  name  has  not  been 
handed  down  to  posterity,  had  protested:  **You 
pretend  that  no  law  exists  to  prevent  aristocrats 
leaving  the  country,  and  I  maintain  that  one 
exists  —  the  salvation  of  the  people,"  Menou, 
formerly  deputy  for  the  nobility  of  Touraine 
at  the  £tats  G^n^raux  in  1789,  endeavoured  by 
ridicule  and  sarcasm  to  obtain  Mesdames  release, 
when  he  said :  *'  Europe  will  doubtless  be  much 
astonished  when  she  learns  that  the  Assemblee 
nationale  spent  four  whole  hours  discussing  the 
departure  of  Mesdames,  who  prefer  to  hear  Mass 
in  Rome  rather  than  in  Paris."  Much  hilarity  was 
caused  in  Paris  by  the  appearance  of  a  song  composed 
by  Marchand,  in  which  Gorsas,  a  contributor  to  the 
newspaper,  Le  Courrier  des  8j  ddpartements,  who, 
on  Mesdames'  departure  from  Belle vue,  had  apostro- 
phized them  in  his  paper :  *'  Nothing  you  possess, 
from  your  chateau  of  Bellevue  to  your  laces  and 
your  chemises,  belongs  to  you,"  was  supposed  to  say 
to  Mesdames  : — 

125 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

"Donnez-nous  les  chemises 
A  Gorsas, 
Donnez-nous  les  chemises," 

and  Madame  Victoire  to  reply  in  her  thick  voice : — 

**Avail-il  des  zemises, 
Gorsas, 
Avail-il  des  zemises?" 

The  Parisians  love  sarcasm  :  another  song 
immediately  followed  entitled,  ''Les  Chemises  de 
Marat,  ou  l Arrestation  de  Mesdames,  Tantes  du  Roi, 
a  Arnay-le-Duc!'  a  skit  upon  the  blind  faith  of 
certain  provincials  who  on  reading  in  Marat's  paper, 
L Ami  du  peuple,  that  everything  which  Mesdames 
possessed  belonged  to  him,  and  that  Mesdames 
baggage  had  been  overhauled,  really  believed  that 
the  old  ladies  had  gone  off  with  some  of  his  shirts. 
Marat  was  furious  at  this  skit — which  his  lack  of 
funds  had  prevented  him  suppressing ;  had  he  not 
lately  been  forced  to  sell  the  sheets  off  his  bed  in  order 
to  obtain  a  few  francs  with  which  to  pay  his  bills  ? 

Mesdames  spent  the  eleven  days  of  their  captivity 
in  playing  backgammon  with  the  curd  of  Arnay. 
However  on  March  3  they  were  allowed,  thanks  to 
the  largesse  which  Louis  de  Narbonne  distributed 
right  and  left,  to  continue  their  journey. 


126 


CHAPTER  VII 

The  queen  makes  further  preparations  for  flight— M.  Campan  pere  is 
recommended  to  take  a  cure — Mme  Campan  bids  farewell  to  her 
mistress — She  hears  of  the  fiasco  of  Varennes — Marie  Antoinette 
sends  for  her  waiting-woman — She  returns  to  Paris  and  again 
receives  proofs  of  her  mistress's  confidence — She  suffers  for  her 
brother's  opinions — An  echo  of  an  old  affair — Mme  Campan  accepts 
some  delicate  missions. 

During  this  same  month  of  March  (1791)  the  king 
expressed  a  wish  to  go  to  Saint-Cloud.  History- 
records  how  he  was  forced |  to  give  up  that  project 
and  return  to  his  stately  prison.  On  this  occasion 
M.  Campan /<?r^,  who  had  never  recovered  his  health 
since  the  events  of  October  5,  1789,  received  some 
rough  treatment  at  the  hands  of  the  populace,  who, 
rightly  or  wrongly,  looked  upon  this  expedition  as  an 
attempt  at  escape. 

Notwithstanding  her  disappointment,  Marie 
Antoinette  spent  the  whole  month  of  March  in 
making  preparations  for  another  journey.  Of  course, 
Mme  Campan  helped  her.  Marie  Antoinette's 
passion  for  luxury  was  a  great  anxiety  to  her  waiting- 
woman,  for  the  queen  insisted  upon  purchasing  a 
quantity  of  new  clothes  so  that  when  she  reached 
Brussels,  which  was  to  be  the  bourne  of  their  journey, 
she  and  her  children  might  want  for  nothing.  In 
vain  did  her  waiting- woman  remind  her  that  Brussels 
was   a  civilized  town  and  that,  if  by  chance  people 

127 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

learnt  that  the  queen  was  sending  trunks  to  Brussels, 
she  might  be  prevented  following  them.  But  Marie 
Antoinette's  inborn  obstinacy  forbade  her  listening 
to  her  humble  friend's  advice.  Mme  Campan,  to 
whom  the  duty  of  obtaining  all  these  clothes  had  been 
entrusted,  used  all  her  intelligence  in  order  to  carry 
out  the  mission  with  secrecy.  Dressed  in  sober  attire 
and  unaccompained,  she  went  from  shop  to  shop 
buying  six  chemises  here,  a  dress  and  a  cloak  there, 
bonnets,  shoes,  and  gloves  elsewhere.  Her  sister, 
Mme  Auguie,  whose  fate,  as  we  shall  see,  was  so 
connected  with  that  of  the  queen,  ordered  a  complete 
outfit  for  Madame  Royale,  who  was  about  the  same 
age  as  her  own  eldest  daughter,  while  Mme  Campan 
had  a  suit  of  clothes  nominally  made  for  her  son 
Henri,  but  intended  for  the  little  Dauphin.  When 
these  clothes  were  packed  in  a  big  trunk  Mme 
Campan,  at  the  queen's  command,  sent  them  to  one 
of  the  latter's  former  waiting- women,  the  widow  of  an 
officer,  who  was  then  living  at  Arras,  warning  her 
that  she  must  be  ready  to  start  for  Brussels  or  else- 
where at  any  moment,  which,  as  the  lady  owned 
property  in  Austrian  Flanders  and  often  left  home  on 
business,  she  could  easily  do. 

Mme  Campan  was  much  exercised  as  to  whether 
she  would  be  chosen  to  accompany  her  mistress  on  her 
flight  from  France.  Marie  Antoinette  realized  that 
the  fewer  the  fugitives  the  easier  their  escape  would 
be,  and  so  she  had  informed  her  waiting-woman  that, 
supposing  the  latter  were  not  on  duty  at  the  time  of 
the  royal  family's  departure,  she,  the  queen  would 
send  for  her  faithful  Campan  at  the  earliest  oppor- 
tunity.    The  queen  had   already  given  her  waiting- 

128 


M.  CAMP  AN  PERE  TAKES  A  CURE 

woman  many  proofs  of  her  confidence,  and  now,  on 
the   eve   of  that   disastrous  flight   to  Varennes,  she 
charged    her   with    several    important    messages   to  _ 
different  supporters  of  the  royal  cause. 

As  the  month  of  June  approached,  Marie 
Antoinette,  dreading  the  persecutions  and  ill-treatment 
to  which  M.  Campan  and  his  daughter-in-law  would 
surely  be  subjected  at  the  hands  of  the  revolutionists 
when  the  escape  of  the  royal  prisoners  was  known, 
determined  to  get  them  out  of  the  capital  before  she 
herself  left  it.  So  she  told  her  physician,  M.  Vicq 
dAzyr,  to  order  the  old  gentleman  to  drink  the 
waters  at  Mont  Dore.  On  taking  leave  of  her  faith- 
ful servitors  Marie  Antoinette  assured  her  waiting- 
woman  that  she  deeply  regretted  the  fact  that  she 
would  not  enjoy  her  services  during  the  journey  from 
France,  and  gave  her  the  sum  of  500  /outs  to  pay  for 
her  travelling  expenses  to  Mont  Dore,  and  enable 
her  to  live  quietly  until  her  mistress  could  send  for 
her.  This  sum,  as  Mme  Campan  already  had  plenty 
of  money,  she  refused  to  accept.  The  fact  that  Mme 
Campan  was  not  chosen  to  accompany  her  royal 
mistress  on  her  journey  has  been  quoted  by  some 
historians  as  a  proof  that  Marie  Antoinette  placed 
less  trust  in  her  waiting- woman  than  the  latter  would 
have  us  believe.  Be  this  as  it  may,  M.  Campan /^r<? 
and  his  daughter-in-law  started  for  Auvergne  during 
the  night  of  May  31-June  i,  and  arrived  at  Mont 
Dore  on  June  6. 

It  had  been  settled  that  M.  Campan 's  cure  was  to 

last  until  he  received  news  that  the  royal  family  had 

crossed  the  frontier.     As  day  after  day  went  by  and 

no  news  came,  the  old  gentleman  and  his  daughter- 

I  129 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMP  AN 

in-law  became  more  and  more  anxious.  However, 
about  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  of  June  25,  the 
beating  of  a  drum  was  heard  in  the  peaceful  streets 
of  Mont  Dore,  after  which  a  barber  from  the  neigh- 
bouring village  of  Besse  triumphantly  informed  the 
inhabitants  in  patois  that  *'  the  king  and  queen  have 
tried  to  escape  from  France  and  thereby  ruin  us,  but 
I  have  come  to  tell  you  that  they  have  been  arrested 
and  are  now  guarded  by  one  hundred  thousand 
armed  men." 

While  M.  Campan  was  still  hoping  that  the  news 
was  not  true,  the  man  added :  "  The  queen,  when 
arrested,  lifted  her  veil  and  said  with  her  well-known 
arrogance  to  the  citizens  who  were  upbraiding  the 
king  :  '  Well,  then,  as  you  have  recognized  your  king, 
treat  hini  respectfully,' " — which  expression,  Mme 
Campan  says  in  her  memoirs,  could  not  have  been 
invented  by  the  Jacobins  of  Clermont,  and  forced  her 
to  believe  the  news  which  was  confirmed  in  the 
evening  by  another  messenger.  Two  days  later 
Mme  Campan  received  an  unsigned  letter  written 
after  the  queen  s  return  to  Paris  by  one  of  her 
gentlemen-ushers  at  her  dictation ;  it  contained 
these  words : — 

"  I  am  writing  to  you  from  my  bath,  where  I  am 
trying  to  recover  my  strength.  I  can  say  nothing 
concerning  my  state  of  mind  ;  we  are  still  alive,  but 
that  is  all.  Do  not  return  here  until  you  receive  a 
letter  from  me  :  this  is  very  important." 

On  hearing  that  the  royal  family  had  been  arrested 
and  would  soon  be  back  in  Paris,  Mme  Campan's 
sister,  Mme  Augui^,  together  with  four  or  five  of  the 
queen's  waiting-women,  determined  to  be  the  first  to 

130 


MME  AUGUIE  MAKES  A  FRIEND 

sympathize  with  the  recaptured  fugitive.  However, 
when  they  endeavoured  to  obtain  admission  to  the 
Tuileries,  the  ladies  were  rudely  repulsed  ;  it  was  only 
at  the  gate  of  the  Feuillants  that  they  found  a  sentry 
who  seemed  at  all  willing  to  let  them  enter.  While 
they  were  still  arguing  with  him,  they  were  attacked 
by  a  mob  of  fishwives,  who  covered  them  with  abuse 
and  even  seized  Mme  Auguid  by  the  arm,  calling  her 
"the  Austrian  woman's  slave."  Whereupon  Mme 
Augui(^  shook  herself  free,  crying  in  a  loud  voice  so 
that  all  the  women  could  hear  her  : — 

*'  Listen  !  I  have  been  in  the  queen's  service  since 
the  age  of  fifteen  ;  she  gave  me  a  dowry  and  found  a 
husband  for  me.  I  served  her  while  she  was  happy  and 
powerful ;  she  is  now  unhappy :  ought  I  to  desert  her  ?  " 

With  that  sudden  revulsion  of  feeling  to  which 
the  French  are  prone  in  periods  of  revolution,  the  fish- 
wives bawled  out : — 

**She  is  quite  right,  she  ought  not  to  desert  her 
mistress  ;  we'll  get  her  in  !  " 

So  saying  they  joined  hands,  jostled  the  sentry  on 
one  side,  pushed  Mme  Auguid  and  her  companions 
through  the  gate  of  the  Feuillants,  and  almost  carried 
them  on  to  the  terrace.  One  of  the  fishwives  had 
taken  quite  a  fancy  to  Mme  Auguid,  for,  on  bidding 
her  farewell,  she  gave  her  this  valuable  piece  of 
advice  : — 

"My  dear  friend,  be  sure  to  take  off  your  green 
waistband ;  'tis  the  colour  of  that  d'Artois,  whom  we 
shall  never  forgive." 

In  order  to  be  near  Paris  whenever  the  queen 
required  her  services,  Mme  Campan  and  her  father- 
in-law  left  Mont  Dore,  and  went  to  Clermont,  where 

131 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

they  were  on  the  point  of  being  arrested  by  order  of 
the  AssembUe  constituante,  who  had  guessed  the 
reason  of  Mme  Campan's  sudden  departure  from 
Paris.  At  Clermont,  however,  the  travellers  found 
an  advocate  in  the  person  of  the  Abb^  Louis,  himself 
a  member  of  the  Assemblie  constituante,  and  with  his 
help  they  were  able  to  prove  that  M.  Campan  pere  was 
in  poor  health  when  he  left  the  capital,  as,  indeed,  he 
remained  until  his  death,  which  occurred  in  the 
following  month  of  September. 

Mme  Campan  received  the  expected  summons  in  the 
beginning  of  August,  for  Marie  Antoinette  still  believed 
that  brighter  days  would  dawn,  and  did  not  realize  the 
risk  her  faithful  servitors  ran  in  returning  to  Paris. 

Mme  Campan  reached  the  capital  towards  the 
end  of  August ;  she  found  Paris  much  quieter  than 
she  had  expected.  On  September  i  she  saw  her 
mistress  for  the  first  time  since  the  return  from 
Varennes.  At  first  the  waiting-woman  noticed  but 
little  change  in  her  queen's  appearance.  Marie 
Antoinette  had  just  left  her  bed ;  after  saying  a 
few  words  of  greeting  to  her  faithful  friend,  the  queen 
took  off  her  night-cap,  when  Mme  Campan  saw  that 
her  mistress's  hair  had  turned  snow-white  during  that 
terrible  night  spent  in  the  house  of  the  grocer.  Sauce, 
at  Varennes.  Mme  Campan  burst  into  tears  at  the 
sight.  The  queen,  touched  by  her  servitor  s  grief, 
showed  her  a  ring  made  of  her  hair  which  she 
intended  to  give  to  the  princesse  de  Lamballe  with 
this  inscription  :  "  Blanchis  par  le  malheur!  "  Marie 
Antoinette  then  told  her  waiting-woman  that  she 
would  have  need  of  her  services  in  order  to  com- 
municate   with   MM.  Barnave  and    Lameth,    whom 

132 


A  LITTLE  VICTIM 

she  considered  might  in  future  be  of  use  to  her.     Mme 
Campan  was  greatly  astonished   to  hear  the  queen 
speak  of   Barnave  as  if  she   really  liked  him.     On 
expressing  her  surprise,  and  begging  the  queen  to  be 
careful  how  she  trusted   the  eloquent  orator,  Marie 
Antoinette  assured  her  that  Barnave  was  worthy  of 
her  confidence,   and   that   his   behaviour  during  the 
journey    from   Varennes    to    Paris    had   been   most 
chivalrous,  and  a  perfect  contrast  to  that  of  Potion, 
who  had  not  only  insisted  upon  sharing  the  berlin  of 
the  royal  family,  but  their  meals  also,  when  he  had 
behaved    in    a    most    unseemly    manner,    throwing 
chicken-bones  out  of  the  carriage-window  at  the  risk 
of  hitting  the  king  in  the  face,  and  never  thanking 
Mme  Elisabeth  when  she  filled  his  glass  with  wine, 
but   only   tipping   it   up   to   show   that   he  had  had 
enough.      And   then   the   litde    Dauphin,    who   had 
suffered  much  from  the  heat  during  the  previous  day, 
and  was  sick  and  tired  out,  had  to  endure  Potion's 
well-meant  attentions ;  for  the  virtuous  patriot,  who, 
like  all  Frenchmen,  was  fond  of  children,  had  taken 
the  Dauphin  on  his  knees  that  he  might  stroke  the 
child's   soft    curls   while    conversing   with   the   royal 
parents.     Unfortunately  Potion  forgot  in  the  heat  of 
his  political  discussions  that  he  was  holding  a  little 
child,  the  future  victim  of  those  politics,  on  his  knees ; 
and  while  curling  the  golden  locks  between  his  fingers, 
all  unconsciously  pulled  too  hard,   causing  the  little 
Louis    to    cry     out    with     pain,     whereupon    Marie 
Antoinette  said : — 

''  Give  me  my  son — he  is  accustomed  to  be  treated 
with  respect,  not  with  familiarity." 

A  few  days  after  Louis  xvi  accepted  the  Constitu- 

133 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

tion,  Mme  Campan  received  a  letter  from  the  comte 
de  Montmorin  begging  her  to  grant  him  an  interview 
in  the  queen's  study,  as  he  did  not  wish  to  compromise 
the  faithful  waiting-woman  by  coming  to  her  own 
house. 

During  the  interview,  M.  de  Montmorin,  having 
thanked  Mme  Campan  for  all  she  had  done  for  the 
unfortunate  queen,  told  her  that  the  king  was  in  great 
danger ;  that  plots  to  assassinate  him  were  of  daily 
occurrence  ;  that  his  only  chance  of  salvation  lay  in 
keeping  the  sacred  oath  he  had  just  taken.  To  Mme 
Campan,  born  and  bred  within  the  shadow  of 
Versailles,  who  still  believed  in  the  divine  right  of  the 
Sovereign,  the  Constitution  appeared  as  a  sign  of  the 
end  of  the  world  ;  she  remarked  to  M.  de  Montmorin 
that  the  king,  should  he  adhere  to  the  Constitution, 
would  compromise  himself  in  the  eyes  of  those 
royalists  who  considered  moderation  a  crime,  and 
that  she  herself  would  be  called  a  constitutionnelle, 
because  she  held  that  the  nation's  fame,  happiness, 
and  welfare  lay  in  the  king's  hands,  an  opinion  which 
she  had  formed  in  early  youth,  and  which  she  could 
not  bear  to  think  that  people  should  imagine  her 
capable  of  changing. 

"Do  you  think,"  questioned  the  count,  "that  I 
could  ever  wish  for  any  other  government  }  Do  you 
doubt  my  devotion  to  the  king  and  my  desire  to  see 
his  rights  maintained  '^.  " 

"  Of  course  not !  "  replied  Mme  Campan,  "  but  you 
must  be  aware  that  people  say  that  you  have  adopted 
revolutionary  opinions." 

"Well,  madame,"  retorted  M.  de  Montmorin, 
"  show  your  courage   by  concealing  your  thoughts ; 

134 


DEATH  OF  M.  CAMPAN  PERE 

never  has  dissimulation  been  more  necessary.  We 
are  endeavouring  to  frustrate  the  revolutionists'  plots 
as  much  as  possible,  and  we  must  not  allow  them 
to  get  the  better  of  us  by  continuing  to  spread  the 
reports  of  what  the  king  and  queen  say  and  do,  with 
which  Paris  is  now  inundated." 

Mme  Campan  applauded  all  M.  de  Montmorin 
said,  and  told  him  that  she  had  been  obliged  to  im- 
pose silence  upon  the  queen's  servants — now,  alas ! 
becoming  fewer  and  fewer — when  their  indignation 
at  the  treatment  to  which  their  mistress  was  being 
subjected  burst  forth  into  angry  cries,  for  which 
service  she  had  only  reaped  sullen  looks  and  muttered 
protests. 

"  I  know  it,"  remarked  the  count  greatly  to  her 
surprise,  "the  queen  has  told  me  all  about  the  matter, 
and  that  is  why  I  have  come  to  beg  you  to  do  your 
very  best  to  be  prudent  and  to  impress  prudence  upon 
others." 

A  few  days  later  Mme  Campan  experienced  a 
great  loss  by  the  death  of  her  father-in-law,  her  best 
friend,  whose  wise  counsels  and  affectionate  care  had 
helped  her  to  avoid  those  quicksands  which  beset  the 
path  of  a  misunderstood  wife,  surrounded  by  would-be 
consolers.  The  scenes  of  horror  enacted  at  Versailles 
which  had  occasioned  the  queen's  departure  from  that 
glorious  abode,  had  left  a  lasting  impression  upon  his 
brain ;  he  grew  weaker  and  weaker,  until  he  finally 
died  at  La  Briche. 

After  the  good  old  man's  decease,  his  executors 
gave  into  Mme  Campan's  charge  the  two  packets 
which  Marie  Antoinette  had  placed  in  her  secretary's 
hand   shortly   before   her    flight    from    Versailles    in 

135 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

October  1789.  Mme  Campan  immediately  carried 
them  to  her  mistress,  and  asked  her  what  she  was  to 
do  with  them.  The  queen  kept  the  largest  packet  and 
confided  the  smaller  parcel  to  her  waiting-woman  with 
this  injunction : — 

**  Keep  this  for  me  as  your  father-in-law  did." 
The  queen's  dread  of  poison  was  redoubled  when, 
in  the  end  of  1791,  the  intendant  of  the  Civil  List, 
M.  de  La  Porte,  received  information  from  the  police 
that  a  well-known  Jacobin  pastry-cook  living  in  the 
Palais- Royal,  who  was  about  to  take  the  place  of  the 
king's  late  cook,  had  been  heard  to  say  that  anybody 
who  shortened  the  king's  life  would  do  France  a  great 
service.  As  the  royal  family  dared  not  cancel  the 
pastry-cook's  appointment,  it  was  arranged  that  the 
king  and  queen  were  to  refrain  from  eating  any  pastry. 
Now  as  Louis  xvi  had  a  very  sweet  tooth,  and  like 
all  his  race  was  unable  to  curb  his  appetite,  Mme 
Campan  ordered  cakes  and  pastry  in  her  own  name, 
first  at  this  pastry-cook's  shop,  and  then  at  that.  Not 
content  with  these  precautions,  Mme  Campan  kept 
the  bread  and  wine  used  by  her  master  and  mistress 
under  lock  and  key  in  the  king's  study ;  when  the 
royal  family  were  seated  at  table,  Mme  Campan  would 
bring  in  bread,  cake,  and  wine — which  the  king  alone 
drank,  the  queen  and  the  princess  only  taking  water — 
being  careful  not  to  do  so  until  the  footmen  had  re- 
tired. The  king  having  drunk  of  this  wine,  would 
then  half  fill  his  glass  from  the  decanter  placed  on  the 
table  by  the  footmen,  and  crumble  the  pastry  supplied 
by  the  Jacobin  pastry-cook.  The  meal  ended,  Mme 
Campan  removed  what  remained  of  her  supplies.  So 
carefully  was  this  daily  manoeuvre  carried  out,  that  no- 

136 


LETTERS  IN  CIPHER 

body  guessed  the  fears  which  a  talkative  below-stairs 
politician  had  aroused,  nor  was  the  reason  of  the  king's 
sudden  indifference  towards  charlottes,  beignets,  and 
marchpane  cakes  ever  discovered. 

The  queen  spent  the  long  hours  of  night,  when 
anxiety  banishes  sleep  from  the  weary  watcher,  in  read- 
ing ;  the  days  were  occupied  in  writing  letters  in  cipher 
to  her  relatives  and  friends.  Mme  Campan  was  em- 
ployed to  copy  some  of  these  missives,  which,  unless 
one  possessed  the  key,  were  impossible  to  understand  ; 
sometimes  the  queen  chose  a  line  on  a  page  of  a  certain 
edition  of  Paul  and  Virginia  as  the  key  to  the  cipher. 
It  was  Mme  Campan's  duty  to  find  trusty  messengers 
to  carry  these  letters ;  so  skilfully  did  she  arrange 
matters,  that  none  of  the  missives  entrusted  to  her 
care  were  ever  intercepted  or  failed  to  reach  their 
destination.  Marie  Antoinette,  deserted  by  so  many 
of  her  erstwhile  friends,  and  unable  to  trust  some 
of  those  who  still  remained,  continued  to  place  the 
greatest  confidence  in  her  "faithful  Campan";  this 
trust  made  her  waiting-woman  odious,  not  only  to  her 
fellow-servitors,  but  also  to  both  political  parties.  One 
revolutionist  in  especial,  Prudhomme,  denounced  her 
in  his  Gazette  rdvolutionnaire  as  a  dangerous  person, 
capable  of  making  an  aristocrate  of  the  mother  of 
the  Gracchi ;  while  the  royalist  Gauthier  called  her 
monarchienne  and  constitutionnelle,  and  said  that  she 
did  more  harm  to  the  queen's  cause  than  if  she  were  a 
Jacobin. 

Mme  Campan  not  only  suffered  for  her  own 
fidelity  to  the  royal  cause,  but  the  letters  written  to 
her  about  this  time  by  her  brother,  Edmond  Charles 
Genest,    who   was   still    in    Russia,    and   whom   she 

137 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

strongly  suspected  of  sympathy  for  the  popular  party, 
came  near  to  deprive  her  of  her  mistress's  favour.  At 
the  age  of  eighteen,  Edmond  Genest,  thanks  to  M.  de 
Vergennes'  promise  to  the  youth  s  father  to  protect 
him  as  long  as  he  lived,  had  been  given  the  post  of 
attach^  at  the  French  Embassy  in  Vienna.  Two 
years  later  he  was  sent  to  England  as  chief  secretary 
to  the  legation,  when,  soon  after  his  arrival,  he  sub- 
mitted to  M.  de  Vergennes  a  report  concerning  the 
danger  incurred  by  France  through  the  treaty  of 
commerce,  which,  partly  owing  to  M.  de  Calonne's 
influence,  had  just  been  concluded  with  England  ;  this 
report  gave  great  offence  to  M.  de  Rayneval,  chief 
clerk  at  the  Foreign  Office.  On  the  death  of  his 
protector  in  1787,  M.  Genest  found  himself  almost 
without  friends,  and  thwarted  on  every  occasion  by 
his  enemy,  M.  de  Rayneval.  However,  the  comte  de 
S^gur,  France's  representative  at  the  Russian  Court, 
having  obtained  for  M.  Genest  the  post  of  charg^ 
d'affaires  to  the  French  legation  at  Saint  Petersburg. 
Mme  Campan's  brother  started  for  that  town,  swear- 
ing vengeance  on  his  enemy,  and  foretelling  disaster 
to  France  if  her  rulers  did  not  treat  the  nation  with 
confidence. 

His  letters  to  his  sister  were  full  of  bitter  re- 
criminations and  warnings  as  to  what  was  coming. 
On  one  occasion  Marie  Antoinette  surprised  her 
waiting-woman  in  tears ;  having  asked  to  be  allowed 
to  see  the  letter  in  Mme  Campan's  hand,  the  queen 
read  it  and  handed  it  back  to  her  with  this  re- 
mark : — 

**  This  letter  is  written  by  a  young  man  who  has 
been  led  astray  by  ambition  and  discontent ;  I  know 

138 


MME  CAMPAN  RECEIVES  GOOD  ADVICE 

that  you  do  not  share  his  opinions — do  not  fear  to 
lose  my  confidence  and  that  of  the  king." 

Notwithstanding  her  mistress's  consoling  words,  the 
faithful  Campan  told  the  queen  that  she  should  in  future 
neither  write  to  her  brother  nor  reply  to  his  letters. 
This  measure,  however,  the  queen  said  was  un- 
necessary, and  might  be  dangerous.  Mme  Campan 
then  begged  her  mistress  to  allow  her  to  show  her  all 
her  brother's  letters  and  her  own  replies,  to  which 
request  the  queen  acceded.  In  her  next  letter,  Mme 
Campan  blamed  her  brother  so  sharply  for  his  out- 
spoken remarks  concerning  matters  in  France,  that 
he,  in  his  answer,  stated  that  he  should  in  future  for- 
bear to  mention  French  politics,  and  should  confine 
himself  to  describing  the  wind  and  the  weather  ;  he 
also  warned  her  that  he  should  take  no  notice  of 
any  of  her  letters  containing  questions  concerning 
politics  in  Russia,  and  ended  with  this  very  sensible 
injunction  : — 

"  Serve  your  august  mistress  with  the  boundless 
devotion  which  you  owe  her,  and  let  us  each  do  our 
duty.  I  will  only  observe  that  the  huge  capital  is 
often  hidden  from  the  gaze  of  the  inhabitants  of  the 
Pavilion  de  Flore  ^  on  account  of  thick  fogs  rising 
from  the  Seine ;  in  fact  I  believe  that  I,  in  far-away 
Saint  Petersburg,  can  see  it  more  clearly  than  you  do 
in  Paris  itself." 

On  reading  this  letter  Marie  Antoinette  thought 
for  a  minute  and  then  said  : — 

*'  Perhaps  he  is  right  after  all.  .  .  .  Who  can 
realize  in  what  a  disastrous  condition  we  now  find 
ourselves  ?  " 

'  The  Pavilion  de  Flore  forms  part  of  the  palace  of  the  Louvre. 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

But  Mme  Campan  was  not  the  only  person  who, 
willingly  or  unwillingly,  had  to  show  her  letters  to  a 
second  person  ;  for  Barnave,  who  had  obtained  con- 
siderable influence  over  Marie  Antoinette  since  the 
fiasco  of  Varennes,  dreading  her  imprudence  and  mis- 
trusting her  sincerity,  had  insisted  upon  being  allowed 
to  read  his  queen's  correspondence.  Mme  Campan 
frequently  read  to  her  mistress  letters  from  Barnave 
urging  her  to  trust  to  the  constitutionalists,  warning 
her  not  to  believe  the  protestations  of  the  European 
kings  and  princes,  mere  puppets  in  the  hands  of  their 
statesmen,  and  blaming  the  mad  behaviour  of  the 
dmigrds.  If  protestations  of  sympathy  and  friendship 
could  have  kept  the  crown  of  France  on  the  head  of 
the  luckless  Louis  xvi,  then  surely  he  would  never 
have  lost  both  crown  and  head.  Did  not  even  PHt, 
who  hated  France  so  well,  go  the  length  of  saying  to 
an  unknown  messenger — perhaps  the  famous  Craufurd 
— sent  to  England  by  the  despairing  queen,  that  "he 
would  not  allow  the  French  monarchy  to  perish,  and 
that  it  would  be  a  great  mistake,  and  most  fatal  to 
the  peace  of  Europe,  if  the  revolutionists  were  per- 
mitted to  establish  a  Republic  in  France".'*  Vain 
words  !  empty  promises ! 

But  when  time  passed,  and  nothing  was  done, 
Marie  Antoinette  cried  bitterly  to  her  faithful 
Campan : — 

"  I  cannot  utter  the  name  of  Pitt  without  shudder- 
ing. That  man  is  France's  mortal  enemy ;  he  is 
taking  a  cruel  revenge  for  the  impolitic  support  given 
to  the  American  rebels  by  the  Cabinet  of  Versailles. 
He  wishes  by  our  destruction  to  secure  his  country's 
supremacy  on  the  seaboard,  perfect  his  king's  plans 

140 


AN  ECHO  OF  AN  OLD  AFFAIR 

to  improve  his  navy,  and  profit  by  the  happy  results 
of  the  last  war.  .  .  .  Pitt  has  served  the  revolution 
from  the  very  commencement !  " 

"When  sorrows  come,  they  come  not  single  spies, 
But  in  battalions  ! " 

In  the  beginning  of  the  fatal  year,  1792,  an  echo 
was  heard  in  the  stately  rooms  of  the  palace  of  the 
Tuileries  of  that  terrible  scandal  which  had  crept 
through  the  CEil  de  Bceuf  and  along  the  polished 
parquet  and  marble  halls  of  Versailles,  stalking  like 
a  pestilential  wraith  up  and  down  secret  staircases 
and  corridors,  slinking  like  a  serpent  along  the  box- 
trimmed  garden- walks  of  the  queen's  Eden,  and 
blighting  more  than  one  year  of  Marie  Antoinette's 
married  life. 

One  day  Mme  Campan  received  a  visit  from  a 
venerable  priest,  who  informed  her  that  it  had  come 
to  his  knowledge  that  certain  persons  lately  arrived 
from  England  were  contemplating  publishing  a  libel 
freshly  concocted  by  the  hands  of  the  queen's  enemy, 
Mme  de  Lamotte,  now  living  in  a  London  slum.  As 
these  persons  had  expressed  their  willingness  to  part 
with  the  manuscript  to  anybody  who  would  give  them 
their  price — one  thousand  louis — the  priest  proposed 
to  Mme  Campan  that  he  should  buy  the  libel, 
supposing  the  queen  would  provide  him  with  the 
wherewithal.  Rightly  or  wrongly,  Marie  Antoinette 
refused  to  have  anything  to  do  with  the  matter,  giving 
as  her  reason  that,  if  she  were  to  be  so  foolish  as  to 
buy  the  libel,  the  Jacobins  would  hear  of  it — besides 
which  she  was  convinced  that  it  would  be  published 
whether  she  paid  hush-money  or  not.  However,  she 
was  fated  to  hear  more  of  the  matter. 

141 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

Soon  after  this  episode,  another  visitor,  in  the 
person  of  M.  d'Aubier,  one  of  the  king's  gentlemen, 
came  to  see  Mme  Campan,  whom  he  startled  by  the 
following  piece  of  news  : — 

**The  AssembUe,''  said  he,  "has  been  much 
exercised  by  a  denunciation  recently  made  by  some 
workmen  in  the  china  manufactory  at  Sevres.  These 
men  brought  a  bundle  of  papers  and  placed  it  on  the 
president's  desk,  declaring  that  it  contained  a  Life  of 
Marie  Antoinette.  The  director  of  the  manufactory 
having  been  ordered  to  appear  in  court,  he  said  that 
he  had  received  commands  to  burn  the  papers  in  the 
ovens  used  for  baking  the  china." 

Mme  Campan,  trembling  lest  the  supposed  Life 
of  Marie  Antoinette  should  prove  to  be  the  libel  for 
which  the  queen  had  lately  refused  to  pay  hush- 
money,  hurried  off  to  her  mistress  and  told  her  of  the 
discovery.  While  she  and  the  queen  were  wondering 
how  the  papers  came  to  be  in  such  a  strange  place, 
Mme  Campan  noticed  that  the  king,  who  was 
listening,  became  scarlet  in  the  face  and  sank  his  head 
on  his  breast.  The  queen  likewise  remarked  his 
attitude,  and  turned  to  him  saying  : — 

**  Monsieur,  do  you  know  anything  about  the 
matter  ?  " 

The  king  made  no  reply.  Even  when  Mme 
Elisabeth,  his  favourite,  asked  him  to  explain  the 
affair,  he  said  nothing. 

Mme  Campan,  seeing  that  her  presence  only  dis- 
tressed the  royal  family,  retired  to  her  own  room.  A 
few  minutes  later  Marie  Antoinette  appeared  and 
gave  her  the  following  explanation  of  the  enigma : 
The  king,  out  of  affection  for  his  wife,  had  purchased 

142 


SUFFERS  FOR  HER  BROTHER 

without  her  knowledge  or  consent  the  entire  edition  of 
the  libel  which,  as  the  queen  had  refused  to  buy  it, 
had  been  printed  and  was  about  to  be  published. 
With  characteristic  imprudence  the  good-hearted  king, 
instead  of  burning  the  papers  with  his  own  hands,  had 
given  them  to  M.  de  La  Porte,  the  intendant  of  the  Civil 
List,  who  could  think  of  nothing  better  than  to  send 
them  to  the  china  manufactory  at  Sevres,  there  to  be 
burnt  by  workmen  at  least  half  of  whom  were  probably 
Jacobins,  and  some  of  whom  had  carefully  saved  several 
copies  of  the  libel,  and  brought  them  to  the  AssembUe, 

Mme  Campan  was  placed  about  this  time  in  a  very 
uncomfortable  position  owing  to  her  brother's  well- 
known  political  opinions.  In  consequence  of  a  denun- 
ciation, the  Assemble  had  summoned  Mme  Campan's 
former  friend,  M.  de  Montmorin,  to  appear  and 
explain  his  negligence  in  having  left  unopened  forty 
dispatches  sent  to  him  by  M.  Genest,  France  s  charg^ 
d'affaires  in  Russia.  In  his  defence,  M.  de  Montmorin 
said  that  he  had  done  so  because  he  knew  that  M. 
Genest  was  a  constitutionalist,  and  he  considered  his 
communications  of  small  value.  The  king  had  re- 
quested Mme  Campan  to  assist  at  M.  de  Montmorin's 
examination,  and  bring  him  back  a  report  of  all  she 
had  heard.  It  was  a  painful  duty  ;  nevertheless  she 
attended  the  meeting,  and  brought  back  to  the  king  a 
faithful  account  of  the  proceedings,  taking  care,  how- 
ever, not  to  name  her  brother,  but  to  call  him  :  **  Your 
Majesty's  charg^  d'affaires  at  Saint  Petersburg." 

"  The  king,"  says  she  in  her  memoirs,  "  was  so 
gracious  as  to  observe  that  my  account  showed  great 
discernment." 

On  March   i,    1792,    Marie   Antoinette  lost   her 

143 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

beloved  brother,  Leopold  ii,  Emperor  of  Germany ;  it 
was  Mme  Campan  who  read  the  letter  containing  the 
news  of  his  death  to  his  sister,  whereupon  the  latter, 
bursting  into  tears,  cried  out  that  he  had  been 
poisoned ;  and  when  her  waiting-woman  asked  her 
why  she  thought  so,  replied  that  when  he  joined  the 
coalition  at  Pillnitz  people  had  said  that  **a  pasty 
would  settle  the  business  !  " 

Marie  Antoinette's  first  thought  was  to  write  a 
letter  of  condolence  to  her  nephew  ^  on  the  loss  of  his 
father.  She  had  so  much  to  say,  but  she  knew  that 
her  letter  would  have  to  pass  through  the  hands  of 
MM.  Barnave  and  Lameth.  In  her  perplexity  she 
said  to  the  faithful  Campan  : — 

"  Sit  down  at  this  table  and  write  me  a  rough  copy 
of  what  I  ought  to  say.  Be  sure  to  insist  upon 
the  fact  that  I  expect  my  nephew  to  walk  in  his 
father's  footsteps.  If  your  letter  is  better  than  what  I 
myself  thought  of  writing,  you  shall  dictate  it  to  me." 

"  I  wrote  what  I  considered  suitable,"  says  Mme 
Campan  ;  **  she  read  the  letter  and  said  to  me : — 

"  *  That  is  the  very  thing !  The  matter  lay  too 
near  my  heart  for  me  to  write  as  coolly  and  as 
sensibly  as  you  have  done.' " 

The  queen  felt  very  keenly  the  position  of  semi- 
imprisonment  in  which  she  and  her  family  were  now 
living.  The  departure  of  her  own  father-confessor, 
the  curd  of  Saint- Eustache,  had  deprived  her  of 
spiritual  consolation.  The  faithful  Campan  accom- 
panied her  mistress  to  all  the  Lenten  services,  which 
were  celebrated  in  the  private  chapel  of  the  Tuileries. 
On    Easter   Sunday,    1792,    Mme    Campan,    at   the 

^  Francis  il,  Emperor  of  Germany. 
144 


DUMOURIEZ'S  CAREER  OF  DUPLICITY 

queen's  request,  persuaded  one  of  her  relatives  to  say 
Mass  at  five  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

"  I  was  the  only  person  who  accompanied  her," 
wrote  the  queen's  waiting-woman  ;  "  it  was  still  dark. 
She  took  my  arm  while  I  lighted  the  way  with  a 
candle.  I  left  her  alone  at  the  chapel  door.  She  did 
not  return  to  her  apartments  until  day  was  beginning 
to  dawn." 

It  was  but  natural  that  the  queen,  in  the  midst  of 
this  general  ddbdcle  of  worldly  and  spiritual  friends, 
should  turn  towards  any  one  who  showed  sympathy 
for  her.  Mme  Campan  relates  in  her  memoirs  an 
extraordinary  offer  which  her  mistress  received  about 
this  time  from  Dumouriez  —  Napoleon  gauged  his 
character,  when  he  called  him  "nothing  but  a  vulgar 
intriguer." 

*'  I  found  the  queen  much  agitated,"  wrote  she  ; 
"  she  told  me  that  she  really  did  not  know  what  she 
was  about ;  that  the  chiefs  of  the  Jacobins  had  offered 
their  services  through  Dumouriez,  or  that  Dumouriez, 
deserting  the  Jacobins,  had  come  to  offer  his  own 
services  to  her  ;  that  she  had  granted  him  an  audience  ; 
that,  as  soon  as  he  had  found  himself  alone  with  her, 
he  had  flung  himself  at  her  feet  and  informed  her 
that,  although  he  had  placed  the  red  cap  on  his  head, 
he  was  not  and  never  could  be  a  Jacobin ;  that  the 
revolution  was  now  in  the  hands  of  a  mob  of  dis- 
organizers  who  only  cared  for  pillage,  who  were 
capable  of  committing  any  crime,  who  could  provide 
the  AssembUe  with  a  formidable  army,  and  were 
ready  to  undermine  the  last  supports  of  a  throne 
which  was  already  tottering.  While  speaking  with 
extraordinary  warmth,  Dumouriez  seized  the  queen's 
K  145 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

hand  and  kissed  it  passionately,  crying :  *  Let  yourself 
be  saved  ! '  " 

Dumouriez's  subsequent  disloyalty  to  all  interests 
except  his  own  justified  Marie  Antoinette's  refusal  to 
have  anything  to  do  with  him  or  his  plans. 

In  the  month  of  June  1792,  the  waves  of  the 
Revolution  again  laved  the  steps  of  a  royal  palace, 
and  the  royal  family  were  again  exposed  to  the  fury 
of  that  ever-restless  ocean,  the  populace. 

Two  days  before  the  invasion  of  the  Tuileries,  the 
king,  anxious  to  assure  himself  that  those  who  re- 
mained of  his  wife's  retinue  were  faithful,  said  to  the 
princesse  de  Lamballe :  "  Send  for  Mme  Campan, 
then  we  shall  be  sure  to  obtain  impartial  informa- 
tion." 

Mme  Campan,  on  reading  the  list  of  the  queen's 
few  remaining  ladies,  noticed  the  name  of  a  certain 
high-born  dame,  as  faithful  a  servitor  as  herself,  but 
who  had  caused  the  more  humbly  born  Campan 
many  an  uncomfortable  hour  on  account  of  her 
jealousy.  On  returning  the  list  to  the  princesse  de 
Lamballe,  Mme  Campan  remarked  that  this  particular 
lady  was  absolutely  devoted  to  the  queen's  interests, 
and  then  added : 

*'Will  your  Highness  kindly  note  that  this  lady 
is  my  particular  enemy  ?  " 

"  I  will  not  write  that  down,"  replied  the  princess, 
but  I  will  never  forget  it,  and  I  dare  her  to  do  you 
any  harm  henceforth." 

Even  in  those  days,  when  Death  was  knocking  at 
the  gilded  gates  of  the  Tuileries,  Jealousy  was  all- 
powerful,  and  crept  through  key-holes  and  crevices 
where   sympathy  and  pity   were   afraid   to  venture. 

146 


A  STRANGE  HIDING-PLACE 

We  have  already  seen  that  Mme  Campan  had  been 
made  to  suffer  for  her  brother's  political  opinions. 

"  Shortly  before  the  invasion  of  the  Tuileries," 
she  says,  "the  queen  granted  audiences  to  several 
ladies  and  persons  about  the  Court  who  had  come  on 
purpose  to  tell  her  that  my  brother  was  a  constitu- 
tionalist and  an  avowed  revolutionist.  The  queen 
replied  to  them :  '  I  know  it — Mme  Campan  told  me 
so  herself.'  Certain  persons  jealous  of  my  position 
and  of  my  exalted  title,  humiliated  me,  and  made  my 
life  so  painful  that  I  asked  the  queen  to  allow  me  to 
retire  into  private  life.  She  exclaimed  at  such  an 
idea,  showed  me  how  it  would  endanger  my  own 
reputation,  and  was  so  gracious  as  to  add  that  neither 
for  her  own  sake  nor  for  mine  would  she  ever  give 
her  consent.  After  this  interview,  during  which  I 
knelt  at  her  feet,  bathing  her  hands  with  my  tears,  I 
retired  to  my  own  apartment.  A  few  minutes  later 
a  footman  brought  me  a  note  containing  these  words : 
'  I  have  never  ceased  to  give  you  proofs  of  my 
affection ;  I  wish  to  tell  you  in  writing  that  I  believe 
in  your  honour,  and  in  your  fidelity,  as  much  as  in 
your  other  good  qualities ;  I  shall  continue  to  rely 
upon  the  zeal  and  the  intelligence  with  which  you 
have  always  served  me.' " 

While  Mme  Campan  was  still  perusing  her 
mistress's  letter,  a  gentleman  belonging  to  the  king's 
household,  M.  de  La  Chapelle  by  name,  came  to  beg 
her  to  give  him  the  missive  that  he  might  hide  it  in  a 
safe  place.  Mme  Campan  regretfully  entrusted  the 
precious  token  of  royal  gratitude  to  the  care  of  M.  de 
La  Chapelle,  who  then  concealed  it  behind  a  picture 
in  his  private  study  in  the  Tuileries  palace,  where  it 

147 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

remained  undiscovered.  On  August  lo,  M.  de  La 
Chapelle  was  arrested  and  thrown  into  the  prison  of 
the  Abbaye,  whereupon  the  Convention^  immedi- 
ately took  possession  of  his  study  and  used  it  as  a 
meeting-place  ;  during  one  of  its  sdances^  M.  de  La 
Chapelle  was  denounced  by  his  footman,  who  swore 
that  several  incriminating  documents  were  concealed 
beneath  a  loose  band  in  his  master's  hat.  This  asser- 
tion having  been  proved,  M.  de  La  Chapelle  was 
sentenced  to  death,  a  sentence  which  he  managed  to 
escape  by  a  miracle,  as  well  as  the  September  massacres, 
which  opened  the  doors  of  so  many  prisons  in  Paris 
and  in  the  provinces.  When  the  Convention  migrated 
to  the  king's  private  apartments,  M.  de  La  Chapelle 
was  permitted  to  go  to  his  study  and  remove  some  of 
his  belongings.  On  finding  himself  alone  for  a 
moment,  he  hastily  turned  a  certain  picture  with  its 
face  to  the  wall,  removed  the  queen's  letter  which 
had  remained  undiscovered  since  his  departure,  and 
flung  it  into  the  fire  which  was  blazing  on  the  hearth. 

But  we  must  go  back  a  few  months. 

Mme  Campan  was  about  to  hasten  to  the  queen's 
boudoir  in  order  to  thank  her  for  her  graciousness, 
when  she  heard  somebody  knocking  at  her  door ;  she 
opened  it,  and,  to  her  astonishment,  beheld  the  king. 

"  I  am  afraid  I  frightened  you,"  he  said  in  his 
kind,  slighdy  drawling  voice  ;  '*  but  I  have  come  to 
reassure  you.  The  queen  has  told  me  how  the  cruel 
treatment  received  from  the  hands  of  so  many  persons 
has  wounded  you.      But  how  can  you  complain  of 

^  Mme  Campan  says  it  was  the  ComitS  de  Salut  public  which  took 
possession  of  M.  de  La  Chapelle's  study ;  that  body,  however,  was  not 
formed  until  March  25,  1793. 

148 


A  FAITHFUL  SERVANT 

injustice  and  calumny  when  you  see  that  even  we  are 
not  spared  ?  .  .  .  We  are  in  a  most  unfortunate  posi- 
tion ;  we  have  experienced  so  much  ingratitude  and 
treachery  that  the  fears  of  those  who  love  us  are 
pardonable.  I  might  reassure  them  by  telling  them 
of  the  secret  services  which  you  daily  render  us  ;  but 
I  do  not  want  to  do  so.  Should  they,  out  of  kind- 
ness to  you,  repeat  what  I  said,  you  would  be  ruined 
in  the  opinion  of  the  AssembUe.  It  is  much  better 
for  you  and  for  us  that  people  should  believe  you  to 
be  a  constitutionalist.  People  have  already  informed 
me  of  the  fact  twenty  times;  I  have  never  contra- 
dicted the  report,  but  I  have  come  to  give  you  my 
word  that,  if  we  are  so  lucky  as  to  see  the  end  of  this 
business,  I  shall  publicly  acknowledge  in  the  presence 
of  the  queen  and  my  brother,  the  important  services 
which  you  have  rendered  to  us,  and  I  shall  reward 
you  and  your  son," 

Although  Mme  Campan  was  frequently  exposed 
to  great  risks  while  executing  the  queen's  commands, 
she  never  hesitated  to  obey.  On  one  occasion  Marie 
Antoinette  was  anxious  to  see  Barnave,  the  discovery 
of  whose  correspondence  with  the  king  was  to  lead  to 
his  death.  Mme  Campan  was  told  to  go  and  wait 
for  Barnave  at  a  little  door  leading  to  the  royal  apart- 
ments. For  one  long  weary  hour  she  stood  with 
beating  heart,  expecting  the  arrival  of  the  then 
powerful  politician,  her  agitation  being  not  a  litde  in- 
creased by  sudden  and  unexpected  flying  visits  from 
the  king  who  was  in  a  scarcely  less  agitated  condition 
owing  to  the  strange  behaviour  of  one  of  his  footmen, 
a  patriot  of  the  name  of  Decret.  The  king  was  in 
terror  lest  this  man  should  discover  the  two  trembling 

149 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

watchers,  or  surprise  Barnave  in  a  secret  interview 
with  the  queen,  **for,"  whispered  he  to  the  faithful 
Campan,  "  such  a  discovery  would  of  a  surety  be 
productive  of  many  grave  denunciations,  and  the 
unfortunate  victims  would  be  ruined." 

And  he  was  not  reassured  when  she  reminded 
him  that  she  was  not  the  only  person  in  the  secret, 
and  added  that  she  sometimes  feared  lest  one  of 
her  colleagues  should  be  tempted  to  boast  of  their 
powerful  friend. 

The  king  left  her  with  a  heavy  heart ;  he  returned  a 
few  minutes  later  with  the  queen,  who,  after  endeavour- 
ing to  reassure  her  waiting-woman,  released  her  from 
her  post,  saying : — 

"You  need  not  remain  any  longer;  I  will  now 
take  my  turn  to  wait  for  him.  You  have  convinced 
the  king  we  must  not  let  more  people  into  the  secret  of 
Barnave's  communications  with  us  than  we  can  help." 
However,  Barnave  proved  to  be  but  a  broken 
reed.     M me  Campan  says: — 

"  Hope  had  fled.  The  queen  wrote  imploring 
letters  to  her  relations  and  to  the  king's  brothers ; 
her  letters  probably  became  more  pressing,  and  she 
complained  of  their  tardy  conduct.  Her  Majesty  read 
me  a  letter  from  the  archduchess  Marie  Christine,  wife 
of  the  Governor  of  the  Netherlands  ;  she  blamed  her 
for  some  of  her  expressions,  and  told  her  that  people 
outside  France  were  quite  as  alarmed  as  herself  con- 
cerning the  safety  of  the  French  royal  family,  but 
that  their  salvation  or  their  perdition  depended  upon 
the  manner  in  which  they  were  rescued,  and  that  the 
coalition,  being  charged  with  such  precious  interests, 
must  exercise  prudence.  ..." 

150 


A  FAITHFUL  SERVANT 

The  queen  was  at  that  time  in  correspondence 
with  a  very  unpopular  personage,  namely,  the  marquis 
Bertrand  Antoine  de  Molleville,  who  in  the  previous 
month  of  January  had  been  convicted  of  telling  lies 
in  the  presence  of  the  Assemblde  legislative.  M.  de 
Marsilly,  formerly  a  lieutenant  in  the  regiment  of  the 
Cent-Suisses,  was  employed  to  carry  the  queen's 
letters  to  M.  de  Molleville.  When  M.  de  Marsilly 
accepted  this  trust,  the  queen  wrote  to  him :  "  Ad- 
dress yourself  to  Mme  Campan  in  full  confidence ; 
her  brother's  conduct  in  Russia  has  had  no  effect 
upon  her  feelings ;  she  is  devoted  body  and  soul  to 
us  ;  and  if,  in  the  future,  you  should  have  messages 
to  communicate  by  word  of  mouth,  you  can  perfectly 
rely  upon  her  discretion  and  her  devotion." 


151 


CHAPTER    VIII 

Marie  Antoinette  changes  her  bedroom — Mme  Campan  provides  the 
king  with  some  strange  garments — Attempt  upon  the  queen's  life — 
The  king's  imprudence — A  false  alarm — Petion  pays  a  visit  to  the 
Tuileries — The  palace  is  besieged — Mme  Campan  has  a  narrow 
escape — She  is  allowed  to  see  the  royal  prisoners  at  the  Feuillants. 

It  is  curious  to  think  how  to  the  very  last  the  queen 
hoped  and  believed  that  she  and  her  family  would 
be  rescued  by  her  talkative  but  slow-paced  friends 
and  relatives  across  the  eastern  frontier  of  France. 
Meanwhile  her  friends  at  home  were  less  sanguine, 
and  entertained  serious  fears  lest  she  and  her  husband 
should  be  assassinated  before  those  other  friends 
could  rescue  her. 

In  the  beginning  of  the  month  of  July,  Marie 
Antoinette,  with  some  difficulty,  was  persuaded  to 
change  her  bedroom  to  a  room  on  the  first  floor, 
situated  between  the  bedrooms  of  the  king  and  the 
Dauphin. 

In  order  that  she  might  feel  less  lonely  during 
those  long,  sleepless  nights  of  anxiety,  the  queen 
ordered  her  shutters  to  be  left  open.  Once  when 
Mme  Campan  crept  into  her  mistress's  room  in  the 
middle  of  the  night  and  found  the  queen  lying  in  bed 
wide  awake  with  the  moonbeams  streaming  through 
the  windows,  filling  every  nook  and  crevice  with 
strange,  unearthly  shadows,  and  making  her  pale  face 

152 


THE  KING  FEARS  AN  ATTACK 

look  even  paler,  Marie  Antoinette  beckoned  her  to 
her  bedside  and,  pointing  to  the  moon,  whispered  : — 

"  Before  another  month  has  elapsed  the  king  and 
I  shall  have  shaken  off  our  chains,  and  we  shall  be 
free.  They  will  soon  rescue  us.  But  our  friends 
disagree  in  a  terrible  manner ;  some  declare  that 
our  plans  will  be  crowned  with  success,  while  others 
say  that  there  are  insurmountable  difficulties  to  be 
faced.  I  have  in  my  possession  the  itinerary  which 
the  princes  and  the  king  of  Prussia  intend  to  follow. 
I  know  the  date  of  their  entry  into  Verdun,  and 
when  they  move  to  such  and  such  a  place.  ..." 

The  queen  then  added  that  she  dreaded  what 
might  happen  meanwhile  in  Paris,  and  lamented  the 
king's  lack  of  energy,  to  which,  indeed,  we  may 
attribute  all  his  misfortunes. 

It  was  believed  by  the  friends  of  the  royal  family 
that  the  third  anniversary  of  the  taking  of  the  Bastille 
would  be  marked  by  an  attempt  to  murder  the  king 
and  queen.  So  completely  did  Mme  Campan  share 
this  belief,  that  she  never  once  undressed  and  went  to 
bed  during  the  month  of  July.  The  king  was  urged 
by  everybody  to  wear  some  sort  of  protection  beneath 
his  coat ;  at  last,  in  order  to  please  the  queen,  he 
gave  Mme  Campan  permission  to  order  a  waistcoat 
and  a  belt  sufficiently  thick  to  protect  the  vital  organs. 
These  garments  were  made  of  fifteen  folds  of  the 
thickest  Italian  silk,  and  were  so  efficacious  that  not 
only  could  no  stiletto  pierce  them,  but  the  bullets  of 
those  days  were  flattened  by  impact.  The  garments 
finished,  Mme  Campan,  not  knowing  where  to  hide 
them  while  waiting  for  an  opportunity  to  get  the  king 
to  try  them  on,  hung  them  by  a  string  round  her  own 

153 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMP  AN 

person,  and  for  three  days  went  about  with  them  under 
her  skirts  where  they  impeded  her  every  movement 
and  made  her  quake  with  anxiety  lest  they  should 
become  unfastened,  or  trip  her  up,  and  thus  reveal 
their  presence. 

At  last  a  favourable  opportunity  presented  itself 
while  the  king  was  in  his  wife's  room.  M.  Gentil, 
the  head  valet,  helped  Mme  Campan  to  button  his 
Majesty  into  this  new-fashioned  armour  which  the 
good-natured  king,  at  his  wife's  request,  subsequently 
wore  on  the  famous  anniversary.  While  these  strange 
garments  were  being  tried  on,  the  king  plucked  at 
Mme  Campan's  skirt,  and  made  a  sign  to  her  to  leave 
the  queen's  bedside — for  Marie  Antoinette  had  not 
risen  yet — when  he  whispered  in  her  ear : — 

"  I  only  consented  to  this  importunity  in  order 
to  please  the  queen.  They  will  not  assassinate  me, 
they  have  changed  their  mind — they  will  get  rid  of 
me  in  some  other  way." 

The  queen  noticed  the  king  whispering  to  the 
faithful  Campan,  and  when  he  left  the  room,  she  called 
her  waiting-woman  to  her  bedside,  and  asked  what  he 
had  said. 

**  I  hesitated  before  replying,"  wrote  Mme 
Campan  in  her  memoirs  ;  "  she  insisted,  however,  and 
told  me  that  I  must  conceal  nothing,  because  she  was 
resigned  to  bear  everything.  When  she  heard  what 
the  king  had  said,  she  told  me  that  she  had  guessed 
everything,  that  he  had  often  told  her  that  the  events 
which  were  then  being  enacted  in  France  were  an 
imitation  of  the  revolution  in  England  under  Charles  i, 
and  that  he  was  never  tired  of  reading  the  history 
of  that  unfortunate  monarch,  so  that  he  might  avoid 

154 


THE  QUEEN  REFUSES  PRECAUTIONS 

the  faults  which  that  sovereign  had  committed  during 
a  similar  crisis. 

"  '  I  was  beginning  to  fear  that  they  would  bring 
a  lawsuit  against  the  king,'  added  the  queen  ;  *as  for 
me,  I  am  a  foreigner — they  will  assassinate  me.  .  .  . 
What  will  become  of  our  poor  children  ? ' 

"  She  burst  into  tears.  I  wanted  to  give  her  an 
antispasmodic  potion  ;  but  she  refused  it,  saying  that 
only  happy  women  suffered  from  hysterics,  that 
nothing  could  mend  the  cruel  position  in  which  she 
now  found  herself  In  fact,  the  health  of  the  queen, 
who,  during  her  happy  days,  had  often  suffered  from 
hysterics,  became  perfect  now  that  her  mind  was 
needed  to  sustain  her  body.  ..." 

Mme  Campan,  although  well  aware  that  her 
mistress  could  be  very  obstinate  on  occasion,  had  a 
pair  of  stays  made  of  the  same  material  as  the  king's 
waistcoat  and  belt,  in  the  hope  that  her  Majesty  would 
consent  to  wear  them  ;  but  when  she  came  with  them 
in  her  hand  and  begged  her  mistress  on  her  bended 
knees  and  with  tears  in  her  eyes  to  wear  them  for  the 
sake  of  her  humble  servant  if  not  for  her  husband's 
sake,  the  queen  replied  : — 

"It  will  be  a  good  thing  for  me  if  the  rebels  do 
murder  me,  they  will  free  me  from  a  very  painful 
existence." 

The  expected  attack  upon  the  queen's  life  came 
soon  after.  During  one  of  those  short  summer  nights 
which  seemed  so  long  to  the  pale-faced  watchers, 
Mme  Campan,  while  seated  beside  her  mistress's  bed, 
heard  footsteps  in  the  passage  outside.  It  required 
some  courage  to  open  the  door  and  summon  the 
sleepy  footman,  but  Mme  Campan  neither  in  mental  nor 

155 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

physical  crises  lacked  courage  ;  she  unlocked  the  door 
and  called  loudly  for  "her  Majesty's  footman."  She 
had  hardly  spoken  when  she  heard  a  noise  as  if  two 
men  were  fighting ;  quickly  relocking  the  door,  she 
hastened  back  to  the  queen's  bedside.  Marie 
Antoinette,  trembling  with  terror,  flung  her  arms 
round  her  faithful  Campan's  neck  and  cried  : — 

**  Oh  !  what  a  position  I  am  in  !  exposed  to  insults 
by  day,  and  to  assassins  by  night ! " 

A  few  seconds  later  the  queen's  footman  came  to 
the  door  and  called  out : — 

"Madame,  I've  caught  the  scoundrel,  I've  got 
him  tight ! " 

"  Let  him  go,"  replied  the  queen,  "  open  the  door 
for  him.  He  came  to  murder  me  ;  had  he  succeeded, 
the  Jacobins  would  have  borne  him  in  triumph." 

On  opening  the  door,  Mme  Campan  beheld  the 
queens  footman,  who  was  a  very  strong  fellow, 
holding  by  the  wrists  one  of  the  king  s  footmen  who, 
doubtless  with  the  intention  of  murdering  the  queen, 
had  extracted  the  key  of  her  Majesty's  bedroom  out 
of  the  king's  coat-pocket  after  the  latter  had  gone 
to  bed. 

The  would-be  murderer  released,  the  queen 
thanked  her  footman  for  exposing  his  life,  to  which 
he  replied  that  "he  was  afraid  of  nothing,  and  that 
he  always  wore  two  pistols  on  his  person  in  order  to 
defend  her  Majesty." 

On  the  morrow  all  the  locks  of  the  doors  to  the 
royal  apartments  were  changed. 

The  king  fully  realized  that  Mme  Campan's  duties 
exposed  her  to  many  risks,  and  he  endeavoured  to 
recompense  her  for  her  devotion.     Some  days  after 

156 


THE  IRON  CUPBOARD 

the  above  incident  he  met  Mme  Campan  in  a  narrow 
staircase ;  when  she  drew  on  one  side  in  order  to  let 
her  master  pass,  he  seized  her  arm  and,  as  she  bent 
forward  to  kiss  his  hand,  saluted  her  on  both  cheeks 
without  uttering  a  single  word.  So  overcome  was 
the  faithful  Campan  with  this  proof  of  her  master's 
gratitude,  and  with  grief  for  what  that  master  was 
suffering,  that  she  scarcely  realized  what  had  happened, 
and  asked  herself  whether  she  had  been  dreaming. 

A  propos  of  locks  and  keys,  the  king's  hobby  was 
only  another  link  in  that  chain  of  fatality  which  he 
forged  with  his  own  hands  during  those  ten  years 
when  he  worked  side  by  side  with  Gamin — Soulavie 
called  him  **  that  infamous  Gamin " — to  the  detri- 
ment of  other  and  far  more  pressing  affairs. 

It  must  ever  be  a  source  of  astonishment  to 
students  of  the  history  of  the  French  Revolution  that 
the  actors  in  that  poignant  drama  should,  at  the  risk 
of  imperilling  their  own  lives  and  the  lives  of  their 
dependants,  have  deliberately  kept  compromising 
documents  in  such  insecure  places  as  iron  cupboards 
wherein  inquisitive  people  would  be  sure  to  pry  when- 
ever they  got  a  chance.  M.  de  La  Chapelle  was  far 
wiser  when  he  chose  the  back  of  a  picture  as  a  safe 
hiding-place — as  Mme  Campan  also  found  when  gover- 
ness to  the  Bonapartes.  For  her  part  Mme  Campan, 
dreading  another  invasion  of  the  palace,  prudently 
burnt  nearly  all  the  papers  confided  to  her  charge. 
Marie  Antoinette  had  laid  aside  the  sum  of  140,000 
francs  (^5600)  in  gold,  in  readiness  for  the  escape 
which  she  still  believed  possible.  This  sum  she  was 
very  anxious  to  confide  to  Mme  Campan's  keeping, 
but  the  latter  persuaded  her  to  keep  40,000  francs,  so 

157 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

that,  if  the  hour  of  delivery  ever  struck,  she  might 
have  the  wherewithal  to  purchase  silence  and 
obedience. 

At  the  advice  of  Marie  Antoinette,  who  had 
always  mistrusted  Gamin,  the  king  placed  some  of  his 
most  important  papers  in  a  fortfolio,  which  he  then 
gave  to  Mme  Campan.     She  says  in  her  memoirs  : — 

**  The  queen  advised  the  king  in  my  presence  to 
leave  nothing  in  the  cupboard  ;  whereupon  the  king, 
anxious  to  reassure  her,  replied  that  he  had  left  nothing 
in  it.  I  wanted  to  take  the  portfolio  to  my  room  ; 
but  it  was  too  heavy  for  me  to  lift.  The  king  told 
me  that  he  would  carry  it  himself ;  I  walked  before 
him  in  order  to  open  the  doors.  Having  placed  the 
portfolio  in  my  private  study,  he  merely  said  to  me  : 
*  The  queen  will  tell  you  what  it  contains.'  On  re- 
turning to  the  queen  I  asked  her  what  it  contained,  as 
I  judged  by  what  the  king  had  said  that  I  ought  to 
know  all  about  it. 

*'  *  It  contains,'  replied  the  queen,  *  papers  which 
would  do  the  king's  cause  the  greatest  harm  if  they 
ever  went  the  length  of  bringing  a  lawsuit  against 
him.  But  the  king  probably  meant  me  to  tell  you 
that  this  same  portfolio  contains  the  verbal  process  of 
a  council  of  State  when  the  king  recommended  the 
government  not  to  go  to  war.  It  was  signed  by  all 
the  Ministers  ;  and  in  case  such  a  lawsuit  were  brought 
against  him,  he  thinks  this  document  would  be  very 
useful.' 

**  I  asked  the  queen  to  whom  I  ought  to  confide 
the  portfolio. 

"  *  To  whomsoever  you  like,'  she  replied,  '  you 
alone  are  responsible  for  it ;  do  not  leave  the  palace 

158 


A  FALSE  ALARM 

even  when  you  are  not  on  duty.  An  occasion  may 
arise  when  we  might  be  very  glad  to  be  able  to  lay 
our  hand  on  it  at  a  moment's  notice.'  ..." 

Did  that  portfolio  contain  duplicates  of  those  letters 
from  Mirabeau  to  his  royal  master,  which,  when  dis- 
covered in  the  cupboard,  were  to  prove  that  to  neither 
royal  nor  plebeian  master  had  the  great  statesman — 
who  might  have  been  so  much  greater — been  faithful  ? 

On  July  30,  Mme  Campan  was  warned  at  four 
o'clock  in  the  morning  that  the  faubourg  Saint- Antoine, 
whose  inhabitants  are  always  foremost  in  any  popular 
manifestation,  was  marching  towards  the  Tuileries 
with  the  evident  intention  of  repeating  the  scenes 
enacted  in  the  previous  month.  Mme  Campan  im- 
mediately sent  two  trusty  messengers  to  find  out 
whether  the  royal  family  were  really  in  danger,  after 
which  she  had  all  the  servants  awakened,  so  that  they 
might  be  ready  to  defend  their  mistress. 

**  I  then  crept  very  quietly  into  the  queen's  room," 
writes  her  waiting- woman  ;  ''  I  did  not  awaken  her. 
The  king  and  Mme  Elisabeth  had  both  risen  ;  Mme 
Elisabeth  was  sitting  in  the  queen's  room.  That 
morning  her  Majesty,  overwhelmed  by  all  her  troubles, 
slept,  strange  to  say,  until  nine  o'clock.  The  king 
came  to  see  if  she  was  awake.  I  told  him  what  I  had 
done,  and  that  I  had  taken  care  not  to  disturb  her. 
He  thanked  me,  and  said  : — 

"  *  I  was  awake,  as  was  the  whole  palace  ;  she  ran 
no  risks.  It  is  pleasant  to  see  her  resting.  Oh  !  her 
sorrows  increase  mine  ! '  he  added  as  he  left  me. 

"  What  was  my  grief  when  the  queen,  on  awaken- 
ing, was  informed  of  what  had  happened,  and  began 
to  weep  bitterly  because  she  had  not  been  called,  and 

159 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

blamed  me,  upon  whose  friendship  she  had  hoped  to 
count,  for  having  served  her  so  ill  on  such  an  occasion  ! 
.  .  .  It  was  vain  for  me  to  repeat  that  it  had  only 
been  a  false  alarm,  and  that  she  greatly  needed  to  rest 
her  tired  nerves. 

"  *  They  are  not  tired  !  '  said  she,  '  misfortunes  are 
very  good  for  the  nerves.  Elisabeth  was  by  the 
king's  side,  but  I  was  asleep ! — I  who  long  to  die  by 
his  side !  I  am  his  wife  ;  I  do  not  wish  him  to  be 
exposed  to  the  slightest  danger  without  me.'  " 

Meanwhile  the  inhabitants  of  the  Tuileries  were 
preparing  for  what  everybody  felt  was  bound  to  come, 
sooner  or  later ;  guns  and  ammunition  were  stored 
in  the  lower  rooms,  while  from  all  sides  royalists 
rallied  round  the  king  with  protestations  of  fidelity. 
The  king  received  many  offers  of  money  about  this 
time ;  these  offers,  as  the  king  did  not  wish  to  im- 
poverish his  subjects,  he  refused. 

M.  Augui6,  Mme  Campan's  brother-in-law,  sent 
his  wife  to  the  king  with  a  pocket-book  containing 
100,000  dcus,  which  she  begged  the  king  on  her  knees 
to  accept.  The  queen,  who  was  present  at  this 
interview,  strove  to  console  her  servant  for  the  king's 
refusal  by  telling  her  that  she  valued  the  thought  even 
more  than  the  deed. 

In  the  beginning  of  August,  Mme  Campan  received 
a  visit  from  M.  de  La  Ferte,  the  king's  steward,  who 
brought  with  him  the  sum  of  1000  livres,  which  he 
besought  her  to  give  to  the  queen.  However,  the 
latter  refused  this  offer  like  all  the  others  she  received 
about  this  time. 

A  few  days  later,  Mme  Campan  was  surprised  to 
hear  the  queen  remark  that  she  had  decided  to  accept 

160 


Copyright\by] 


Madame  Elisabeth. 

From  a  painting  by  Le  Brun. 


[Bratin  &>  Co. 


THE  MAYOR  OF  PARIS 

part  of  M.  de  La  Fertd's  offer,  as  Mme  Elisabeth  had 
discovered  a  man  who  had  undertaken  to  purchase 
Potion's  goodwill ;  in  fact,  the  matter  was  already  so 
far  advanced  that  the  price  had  been  fixed — 124,000 
francs — and  the  mayor  of  Paris  had  promised  to  let  the 
king  know  by  signs  if  his  plans  succeeded.  Mme 
Campan  was  instructed  to  accept  24,000  francs  from 
M.  de  La  Ferte,  and  to  add  to  this  sum  the  100,000 
francs  which  the  queen  had  entrusted  to  her  care  in  the 
previous  month  ;  the  money  was  then  to  be  changed 
into  assignats  in  order  to  increase  the  value — those 
much-blamed  assignats  which,  according  to  M.  Ernest 
Hamel,  "saved  France  from  bankruptcy,  helped  her 
to  triumph  over  the  whole  of  Europe,  and  only  fell 
into  disgrace  when  the  Revolution  began  to  be 
threatened  by  the  reaction." 

It  was  arranged  that  the  king  was  to  meet  Pdtion. 
Mme  Campan  does  not  give  the  date  of  the  interview, 
but  it  probably  took  place  at  nine  o'clock  of  the  night 
of  August  9,  in  the  palace  of  the  Tuileries.  It  was 
said  that  Petion  was  not  a  little  nervous  as  to  his  own 
safety. 

When  the  queen,  in  the  presence  of  Mme  Campan, 
asked  the  king  whether  the  mayor  of  Paris  had  seemed 
in  a  good  humour,  Louis  xvi  replied  : — 

"  Neither  more  nor  less  than  usual.  He  did  not 
make  the  promised  sign,  and  I  fear  I  have  been 
deceived." 

The  queen  then  turned  to  her  waiting-woman,  and 
explained  that  it  had  been  arranged  that  Potion  was 
to  hold  his  finger  under  his  right  eye  for  two  seconds. 

"But,"  interrupted  the  king,   "he   did   not   even 
touch  his  chin  with  his  hand ;  he  has  cheated  us  out 
L  161 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

of  the  money  ;  however,  the  thief  will  not  dare  to 
boast  of  it,  and  so  the  matter  will  never  be  known. 
Let  us  talk  of  something  else." 

After  this  interview  the  virtuous  Potion  retired 
to  the  gardens  of  the  Tuileries,  where  he  spent  two 
or  three  hours  walking  up  and  down  the  gravel 
walks  in  close  conversation  with  Roederer  and  some 
of  the  members  of  the  Commune. 

Mme  Campan,  although  not  on  duty  during  the 
month  of  August,  had,  in  obedience  to  the  queen's 
request,  remained  at  the  Tuileries  with  two  of  her 
sisters  and  a  niece  during  the  night  of  August  9-10. 
Soon  after  Potion's  departure,  while  the  king  was  giving 
some  orders  for  the  morrow,  a  loud  noise  was  heard 
outside  the  door  of  the  king's  apartments.  On  going 
to  ascertain  the  reason,  Mme  Campan  beheld  two 
sentinels  trying  to  strangle  each  other — why  ?  because 
one  of  them  had  said  that  the  king  would  defend  the 
Constitution  to  the  last  day  of  his  life,  whereas  the  other 
had  asserted  that  the  king  was  only  putting  obstacles 
in  the  way  of  the  Constitution,  which  was  necessary 
to  a  free  nation.  Mme  Campan  was  still  rather  upset 
when  she  returned  to  the  royal  family.  The  king 
having  inquired  the  reason  of  her  agitation,  she 
reluctantly  related  the  incident,  whereupon  Marie 
Antoinette  remarked  that  she,  for  her  part,  was  not 
at  all  surprised,  as  more  than  half  of  the  king's  body- 
guard were  Jacobins  at  heart. 

The  hour  of  midnight  was  heralded  by  the  ghastly 
tocsin,  which  continued  like  a  giant  banshee  to  wail 
over  Paris  until  dawn  broke.  The  walls  of  the  palace 
were  guarded  by  the  Suisses,  who  themselves  formed 
a   second  wall  of  flesh  and  blood.     Mme  Campan's 

162 


ROYAL  PALACE  PREPARES  FOR  SIEGE 

family  was  also  represented  outside  the  palace,  for 
her  brother-in-law,  M.  Rousseau,  fought  in  the  section 
of  the  Filles-Saint-Thomas. 

One  historian  states  that  ''the  palace  looked  so 
formidable  closed  in  with  bayonets,  that  the  populace 
would  probably  have  been  completely  worsted  if  all 
the  troops  which  filled  the  courtyards,  gardens,  and 
apartments  had  resolutely  determined  to  defend  the 
royal  dwelling."  More  than  one  of  the  officers  had 
serious  doubts  as  to  the  issue  of  the  event ;  one 
military  friend  said  to  Mme  Campan  : — 

'*  Fill  your  pockets  with  your  money  and  your 
jewels  ;  we  must  look  danger  in  the  face.  The  means 
taken  to  protect  the  palace  are  useless  ;  nothing  can 
be  done  unless  the  king  acts  with  energy — and  that 
is  the  only  virtue  he  lacks !  " 

An  hour  later  the  queen  and  Mme  Elisabeth  said 
they  would  go  and  rest  in  a  boudoir  looking  into 
the  courtyard  of  the  palace.  No  sooner  did  Marie 
Antoinette  find  herself  alone  with  her  sister-in-law  and 
her  waiting-woman,  than  she  burst  into  lamentations 
because  the  king  had  refused  to  wear  the  famous 
waistcoat,  a  duplicate  of  which  had  lately  been  made, 
giving  as  his  reason  that  he  had  consented  to  wear 
it  on  July  14,  because  he  then  had  cause  to  fear 
the  assassin's  knife,  whereas  he  now  considered  it 
cowardice  on  his  part  to  protect  himself  when  his 
friends  were  exposing  their  lives  for  his  sake.  While 
the  queen  was  lamenting  her  husband's  obstinacy, 
Mme  Elisabeth  removed  some  of  her  clothes  and  lay 
down  on  a  sofa.  Before  taking  off  her  fichu,  Marie 
Antoinette  showed  Mme  Campan  a  cornelian  pin 
ornamented  with  a  lily,  around  which  were  engraved 

163 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMP  AN 

these  words :  **  Forget  offences,  forgive  injuries," 
adding  : — 

"  I  much  fear  that  our  enemies  hold  this  maxim  in 
very  poor  esteem,  but  we  should  not  value  it  any  the 
less." 

The  queen  then  told  her  waiting-woman  to  sit 
beside  her.  Fears  for  the  safety  of  her  dear  ones 
banished  sleep.  The  ladies  were  talking  over  their 
plans,  when  a  pistol-shot  was  heard  in  the  courtyard, 
whereupon  they  started  up  in  terror,  exclaiming : — 

*•  The  first  shot  has  been  fired  ;  it  will  not  be  the 
last,  unhappily.     Let  us  go  to  the  king." 

So  saying,  the  two  princesses  hastened  out  of  the 
room,  followed  by  Mme  Campan  and  several  of  the 
queen's  ladies.  At  four  o'clock  on  the  morning  of 
August  lo,  the  queen  came  out  of  the  king's  room 
and  informed  Mme  Campan  that  M.  Mandat,  a 
fervent  royalist,  had  been  assassinated,  and  that  his 
head  stuck  on  a  pike  was  being  marched  up  and 
down  the  streets  of  the  capital.  Mme  Campan  gives 
the  hour  as  four  o'clock,  whereas  history  places  the 
time  three  hours  later. 

Only  a  few  hours  before  this  event,  this  M. 
Mandat  had  been  the  subject  of  a  conversation 
between  the  king  and  Mme  Campan,  for  the  king  had 
said  to  her  : — 

'*  Your  father  was  an  intimate  friend  of  M.  Mandat, 
who  is  now  at  the  head  of  the  National  Guard.  Tell 
me  what  sort  of  a  man  he  is ;  what  can  I  expect 
of  him?" 

To  which  Mme  Campan  had  replied  that  M. 
Mandat  was  one  of  the  king's  most  loyal  subjects, 
but  that  he  was  equally  devoted  to  the  Constitution, 

164 


MURDER  OF  MANDAT 

which  he  had  sworn  to  defend  and  to  fight  anybody 
who  dared  to  usurp  the  royal  authority. 

During  the  fatal  night  of  August  9-10  the 
commissaries,  assembled  at  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  had 
summoned  Mandat  to  appear  before  them  and  answer 
a  charge  of  having  on  his  own  responsibility  caused 
the  palace  of  the  Tuileries  to  be  fortified.  M.  Mandat 
replied  that  he  had  acted  in  obedience  to  Potion's 
commands.  While  he  was  still  defending  himself,  a 
letter  was  produced  bearing  his  signature,  in  which 
he  charged  the  mayor  of  Paris  to  repulse  any  popular 
attack  against  the  Tuileries  with  shot  and  steel. 
Mandat  was  immediately  arrested.  While  he  was 
being  conducted  down  the  steps  of  the  Hotel  de  Ville 
preparatory  to  being  marched  off  to  the  prison  of  the 
Abbaye,  he  was  shot  by  some  person  in  the  crowd. 

"The  day  broke,"  writes  Mme  Campan ;  *'the 
king,  the  queen,  Mme  Elisabeth,  Madame,  and  the 
Dauphin  descended  in  order  to  review  the  National 
Guard;  some  uttered  cries  of  *  Vive  le  roil*  I  was 
standing  at  a  window  looking  over  the  garden  ;  I  saw 
some  gunners  leave  their  post,  go  up  to  the  king  and 
shake  their  fists  in  his  face,  calling  him  the  most 
insulting  names.  MM.  Salvert  and  de  Briges  roughly 
pushed  them  back.  The  king  was  pale  as  death. 
The  royal  family  then  re-entered  the  palace.  The 
queen  told  me  that  all  was  at  an  end,  that  the  king  had 
shown  no  energy  whatever,  and  that  this  sort  of  review 
had  done  more  harm  than  good.  I  was  with  my 
companions  in  the  billiard-room  ;  we  sat  down  on  some 
high  seats.  I  then  saw  M.  d'Hervilly,  with  his  naked 
sword  in  his  hand,  order  the  gentleman-usher  to  open 
to  the  French  nobility.     Two  hundred  persons  now 

165 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

entered  the  room  next  to  that  in  which  the  royal  family 
were  seated  ;  the  other  persons  drew  up  into  two  rows 
along  the  corridor.  Among  the  latter  I  saw  many 
courtiers,  several  unknown  faces,  and  a  few  persons 
who  would  have  cut  but  a  poor  figure  among  the 
nobility,  but  whose  devotion  ennobled  them  for  the 
moment.  They  were  all  poorly  armed  ;  their  weapons, 
even  in  this  anything  but  ludicrous  situation,  aroused 
our  inextinguishable  French  wit,  and  many  were  the 
jokes  made  at  their  expense.  M.  de  Saint-Souplet,  the 
king's  equerry,  and  a  page  each  carried  over  their 
shoulder,  instead  of  a  gun,  the  half  of  a  pair  of  tongs 
taken  from  the  king  s  antechamber,  which  they  had 
broken  in  two.  Another  page  held  in  his  hand  a 
pocket-pistol,  the  muzzle  of  which  he  had  rested  on 
the  back  of  the  person  just  in  front  of  him,  with  a 
request  that  he  would  be  so  kind  as  to  hold  it 
for  him.  .  .  /• 

At  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  narrow  streets 
leading  to  the  palace  of  the  Tuileries  were  filled  with 
excited  volunteers  representing  all  the  different  sections 
of  the  capital,  and  including  the  Marseillais  and  the 
federates  from  Brest.  The  king  was  then  recom- 
mended by  Rcederer,  to  whom  the  French  clergy 
largely  owed  the  fact  that  they  were  now  forbidden 
to  take  vows,  to  shelter  with  his  family  in  the  Club 
des  Feuillants,  once  an  old  convent,  close  to  the 
Tuileries,  where  the  Assemble  was  in  the  habit  of 
holding  its  meetings. 

**  There  and  there  only  will  you  and  yours  be  in 
safety,"  added  Roederer,  in  order  to  clench  the  matter. 

While  the  king  was  still  hesitating  whether  he 
ought  thus  to  prove  that  he  had  ceased  to  be  king 

i66 


^ 


THE  ROYAL  FAMILY  ENTER  PRISON 

even  in  name,   Mme  Elisabeth  asked  Roederer  with 
tears  in  her  eyes  : — 

*'  Will  you  be  responsible  for  the  king's  life  ?  " 

Whereupon  Roederer  replied  : — 

"  Yes,  I  will  answer  for  his  life  as  for  my  own." 

At  first  the  queen  opposed  this  step  ;  it  was  only 
when  she  was  told  that  if  her  husband  refused  to  leave 
the  Tuileries  she  and  her  children  would  be  massacred 
that  she  consented  to  go  to  the  Club  des  Feuillants. 
On  leaving  the  king  s  study  after  having  given  her 
consent,  Marie  Antoinette  said  to  her  faithful  waiting- 
woman  : — 

"Wait  for  me  in  my  apartment;  I  will  either  join  you 
or  send  for  you  to  come  to  me,  I  know  not  where.  ..." 

Mme  Campan's  heart  was  full  to  overflowing  as 
she  watched  the  royal  family  leave  the  Tuileries 
between  two  rows  of  those  brave  Swiss  soldiers,  eight 
hundred  of  whom  were  to  perish  a  few  hours  later,  and 
two  battalions  of  the  sections  of  the  Petits-Peres 
and  the  Filles  -  Saint  -  Thomas,  among  whom  was 
M.  Rousseau,  Mme  Campan's  brother-in-law.  The 
spectacle  of  the  royal  family  going  on  foot  to  the 
Assemblde  was  so  novel  that  crowds  flocked  to  see 
the  wonder.  During  the  short  walk  the  queen  was 
hustled  and  jostled  by  the  sight-seers.  Much  of  her 
anguish  during  the  previous  night  had  been  caused 
by  fears  for  her  son's  safety  ;  these  fears  were^'  re- 
doubled when  she  beheld  a  huge  man,  a  familiar 
figure  at  all  the  recent  popular  insurrections,  stride 
up  to  the  little  Dauphin,  whom  she  was  holding 
by  the  hand,  tear  him  away  from  his  mother's  grasp 
and  pick  him  up  in  his  arms  ;  whereupon  the  unhappy 
queen  uttered  a  piercing  shriek  and  appeared  upon 

167 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

the  point  of  swooning.  But  the  giant  said  not  un- 
kindly :  **  Don't  be  afraid — I  don't  want  to  hurt  him." 
And  indeed  he  carried  the  child  most  carefully 
and  restored  him  to  his  mother's  arms  as  soon  as  the 
refugees  had  entered  the  hall  of  the  AssembUe.  When 
Marie  Antoinette  had  recovered  from  her  fright,  and 
again  clasped  her  precious  child  in  her  arms,  she 
discovered  that  somebody  in  the  crowd  had  profited  by 
her  terror,  and  had  relieved  her  of  her  watch  and  purse. 
Louis  xvi's  first  words  on  entering  the  hall  of  the 
AssembUe  were : — 

*'  I  have  come  in  order  to  prevent  a  great  crime ! " 
to  which  remark  Vergniaud  replied  : — 

**  You  can  count,  Sire,  upon  the  firm  conduct  of 
the  AssembUe  nationaU  ;  its  members  have  sworn  to 
die  for  the  rights  of  the  people,  and  to  maintain  the 
authority  of  the  Constitution." 

No  sooner  had  the  royal  family  left  the  Tuileries 
than  the  siege  began.  Nobody  knew  who  first  opened 
fire.  For  two  hours  the  Swiss  Guards,  numbering 
one  thousand,  repulsed  the  assailants,  who  were  un- 
aware of  the  king's  departure  for  the  AssembUe,  The 
Swiss  were  holding  their  own  when  Louis  xvi  sent 
word  that  they  were  to  cease  firing.  They  obeyed, 
though  by  so  doing  they  signed  their  own  death- 
warrant.  A  horrible  man-hunt  now  began  along  the 
corridors  of  the  palace.  The  brave  Swiss,  together 
with  many  members  of  the  French  nobility,  were  cut 
to  pieces,  their  bodies  thrown  out  of  the  windows, 
and  their  heads  placed  on  pikes  and  paraded  before 
the  Asse7nbUe.  One  heroic  fellow.  Diet  by  name,  was 
found  on  guard  outside  the  queen's  bedroom ;  he 
bared  his  breast  to  the  assassins'  knives,  crying : — 

i68 


"  SPARE  THE  WOMEN  !  " 

**  I  do  not  wish  to  live  any  longer.  This  is  my 
post,  and  it  is  my  duty  to  die  here,  at  the  door  of  the 
queen's  bedroom !  " 

Mme  Campan  gives  a  graphic  description  of  her 
own  experiences  in  her  memoirs  : — 

''  Luckily  the  princesse  de  Tarente  had  caused 
the  door  of  the  queen's  private  apartments  to  be 
opened ;  had  she  not  done  this,  the  horrible  band,  on 
seeing  several  women  huddled  together  in  the  queen's 
salon,  would  have  thought  that  she  was  still  there, 
and  would  have  immediately  massacred  us  if  their  fury 
had  been  increased  by  resistance.  Nevertheless,  we 
were  all  on  the  point  of  perishing  when  a  man  with  a 
long  beard  entered  crying  out  that  Potion  had  given 
the  following  orders :  *  Spare  the  women !  do  not 
dishonour  the  nation ! '  One  particular  incident 
exposed  me  to  more  danger  than  my  companions. 
In  my  anguish  and  grief  I  imagined,  just  before  the 
assailants  entered  the  queen's  room,  that  my  sister 
had  left  the  little  group  of  women,  so  I  hurried  up- 
stairs to  an  entresol,  where  I  supposed  she  had  taken 
refuge,  meaning  to  persuade  her  to  come  down,  as 
I  fancied  that  we  should  be  safer  if  we  all  kept  to- 
gether. I  did  not  find  her  there,  however ;  I  only 
saw  our  two  serving-maids  and  one  of  the  queen's 
heiduqites,  a  very  tall,  soldierly-looking  man.  He  was 
seated  on  the  edge  of  the  bed,  and  was  very  pale.  I 
cried  to  him  :  *  Save  yourself !  the  footmen  and  our 
own  people  have  already  done  so  ! '  He  replied  :  *  I 
cannot — I  am  literally  dying  of  fear.'  While  he  was 
still  speaking,  I  heard  a  band  of  men  hurrying  up  the 
stairs ;  they  flung  themselves  upon  him — I  saw  them 
murder   him.    ...   I    rushed    towards   the    staircase, 

169 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

followed  by  the  serving-maids.  The  assassins  left  the 
heiduqtie  in  order  to  run  after  me.  The  women  flung 
themselves  at  their  feet  and  clasped  their  swords.  The 
staircase  was  so  narrow  that  the  assassins  were  much 
impeded  in  their  movements  ;  however,  I  already  felt  a 
horrible  hand  on  my  back,  clutching  at  my  clothes, 
when  somebody  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs  called  out : — 

*•  *  What  are  you  doing  up  there  ? ' 

"  The  horrible  Marseillais,  who  was  just  on  the 
point  of  murdering  me,  replied  with  a  hein  which  I 
shall  never  forget  as  long  as  I  live.  The  other  voice 
then  remarked : — 

** '  We  do  not  kill  women  ! ' 

**  I  had  fallen  on  my  knees  ;  my  tormentor  let  me 
go,  saying  :— 

*'  *  Get  up,  you  hussy  !  the  nation  pardons  you.* 

'*  This  coarse  remark  did  not  prevent  me  suddenly 
experiencing  an  inexpressible  feeling,  almost  akin  to 
ecstasy,  at  the  thought  that  I  should  see  my  son  and 
all  my  dear  ones  again.  Only  a  second  before,  I  had 
been  less  concerned  at  the  thought  of  death  than  at 
the  pain  which  the  weapon  suspended  above  my  head 
would  doubtless  have  caused  me.  One  seldom  sees 
death  so  near  without  enduring  it.  I  can  testify  that 
the  organs  of  sight  and  hearing,  when  one  does  not 
swoon,  are  keenly  sensitive,  and  that  I  heard  every 
word  uttered  by  the  assassins  as  clearly  as  if  I  had 
been  quite  calm. 

**  Five  or  six  men  seized  me  and  the  women,  and, 
having  made  us  get  upon  some  benches  placed  beneath 
the  windows,  ordered  us  to  cry  :  *  Long  live  the  nation  ! ' 

**  I  stepped  over  several  dead  bodies.  I  recog- 
nised the  corpse  of  the  old  vicomte  de  B  roves,  to  whom 

170 


A  TERRIBLE  EXPERIENCE 

the  queen,  earlier  in  the  previous  night,  had  sent  me 
to  command  him,  as  well  as  another  old  gentleman, 
to  return  to  their  homes.  These  brave  fellows  had 
begged  me  to  tell  her  Majesty  that  they  had  always 
obeyed  the  king's  commands  in  circumstances  when, 
they  had  had  to  risk  their  lives  in  order  to  protect  him, 
but  that  this  time  they  could  not  obey,  and  would  only 
remember  the  queen's  kindness. 

''  When  we  were  near  the  gate  by  the  riverside, 
the  men  who  were  leading  me  asked  we  where  I 
wanted  to  go  ;  one  of  them,  a  Marseillais,  giving  me 
a  push  with  the  butt  end  of  his  musket,  inquired 
whether  I  still  had  any  doubts  as  to  the  people's  power  ? 
I  replied  :  *  No  ! '  and  then  told  him  the  number  of  my 
brother-in-law's  house.  I  saw  my  sister  ascending 
the  steps  of  the  bridge,  surrounded  by  National  Guards. 
I  called  to  her ;  she  turned  round. 

"  '  Do  you  want  her  to  come  to  you?'  asked  my 
guardians. 

**  I  told  them  that  I  should  like  her  to  do  so.  They 
hailed  the  men  who  were  conducting  my  sister  to 
prison  ;  she  came  to  me.  Our  walk  from  the  palace 
to  my  sister's  house  was  most  terrible.  We  saw 
several  Swiss,  who  were  fleeing,  killed  in  cold  blood  ; 
we  heard  pistol-shots  on  all  sides.  We  passed  under 
the  walls  of  the  gallery  of  the  Louvre  ;  people  stand- 
ing on  the  parapet  shot  at  the  windows  of  the  gallery, 
endeavouring  to  kill  the  chevalie7^s  du  poignard^^  as 
the  people  called  the  king's  faithful  subjects  who  had 
assembled  at  the  Tuileries  in  order  to  protect  his  person. 

^  On  February  28,  1791,  Lafayette  had  hunted  from  the  palace  of  the 
Tuileries  300  gentlemen  who  had  flocked  thither,  armed  with  daggers, 
in  order  to  protect  their  king,  hence  their  name  chevaliers  du  poignard. 

171 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

The  brigands  had  smashed  the  drinking- vessels  in  the 
queen's  first  anteroom ;  the  hems  of  our  white  dresses 
were  stained  with  the  blood-tinged  water.  The  fish- 
wives called  out  after  us  in  the  streets  that  we  belonged 
to  the  Autrichienne  s  household.  Our  guardians  then 
showed  us  more  consideration,  and  made  us  enter  a 
courtyard  so  that  we  might  take  off  our  skirts  ;  how- 
ever, our  petticoats  were  so  short  that  we  looked  as  if 
we  had  tried  to  disguise  ourselves ;  and  then  some 
other  fishwives  began  to  cry  out  that  we  were  young 
Swiss  Guards  dressed  in  women's  clothes.  We  beheld 
a  swarm  of  cannibals  carrying  poor  Mandat's  head 
coming  up  the  street.  Our  guards  made  us  hastily 
enter  a  little  tavern,  asked  for  wine,  and  told  us  to 
drink  with  them.  They  assured  the  hostess  that  we 
were  the  sisters  of  good  patriots.  Luckily  the  Mar- 
seillais  had  left  us  in  order  to  return  to  the  Tuileries. 
One  of  the  men  who  had  remained  with  us,  said  to  mc 
under  his  breath  : — 

"'I  am  a  gauze-manufacturer  in  xho, faubourg \  I 
was  forced  to  join  these  men.  I  do  not  belong  to 
them.  I  have  murdered  nobody,  but  I  have  saved 
your  life.  You  were  in  great  danger  when  we  met 
those  frenzied  women  carrying  Mandat's  head.  Yester- 
day at  midnight  those  horrible  harpies  declared  on  the 
Place  de  la  Bastille  that  they  would  have  their  revenge 
for  the  scenes  enacted  at  Versailles  on  October  6  ;  and 
they  swore  to  kill  the  queen  and  all  her  faithful  women 
with  their  own  hands.'" 

Mme  Campan  was  then  allowed  to  go  to  the  house 
of  her  sister,  Mme  Augui^,  whose  husband  was  in 
despair  because  he  firmly  believed  that  his  wife  and 
sister-in-law  had  shared  the  fate  of  the  unhappy  Swiss 

172 


A  FRIEND  IN  NEED  IS  A  FRIEND  INDEED 

Guards ;  however,  here  Mme  Campan  could  not  stay, 
for  a  crowd  of  revolutionists  had  already  assembled 
in  the  street  outside  the  house,  and  were  crying  that 
Marie  Antoinette's  confidential  waiting-woman  was  in 
there  and  they  would  have  her  head.  While  crossing 
the  Carrousel,  Mme  Campan  had  seen  her  own  house 
in  flames ;  she  was  now  told  that  everything  she 
possessed  had  either  been  burnt  or  stolen,  so  she  was 
absolutely  without  any  clothes  except  what  she  had 
on  her  back.  Mme  Augui^  lent  her  some  of  her 
own  maid's  clothes,  and  thus  attired  the  unfortunate 
waiting-woman  slipped  out  of  the  house,  and  went  to 
the  abode  of  M.  Morel,  the  administrator  of  the  public 
lotteries,  where  she  spent  the  night.  On  the  morrow 
a  royalist  deputy  brought  her  a  message  from  the  queen, 
begging  her  to  come  to  the  Feuillants,  where  the  royal 
family  were  still  prisoners. 

Mme  Campan,  Mme  Auguid,  and  a  friend,  Mme 
Thibaut,  having  disguised  themselves,  set  off  for  the 
Feuillants,  where  they  arrived  at  the  same  time  as  the 
king's  chief  footman,  Thierry.  Before  being  ushered 
into  the  queen's  presence,  the  visitors  were  made  to 
write  their  names  and  addresses  in  a  register,  after 
which  they  were  given  cards  of  admittance  to  the 
rooms  belonging  to  Camus,  where  the  king  and  his 
family  were  tasting  the  bread  of  sorrow. 

On  entering  the  first  room,  Mme  Campan  was 
greeted  by  this  flattering  remark  uttered  by  an  un- 
known person  : — 

"  Ah  !  you  are  a  good  woman ;  but  where  is 
that  fellow  Thierry,  whose  master  loaded  him  with 
benefits  ?  " 

To  which  question,  Mme  Campan  replied  : — 

^7Z 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

"  Here  he  is  ;  he  is  just  behind  me !  I  perceive 
that  even  the  spectre  of  death  is  powerless  to  banish 
jealousy  from  this  place  !  " 

So  saying,  she  hurried  down  a  passage  leading  to 
the  king's  prison,  before  reaching  which  she  had  to 
pass  in  front  of  several  grenadiers,  two  or  three  of 
whom  called  her  by  her  name.     One  said  : — 

**  Ah  !  well — so  the  poor  king's  done  for  !  The 
comte  d'Artois  wouldn't  have  let  himself  be  caught  so 
easily ! " 

"  No,  that  he  wouldn't !  "  another  replied. 

The  meeting  between  the  king  and  his  wife's  faith- 
ful servants  was  most  painful.  The  royal  prisoner 
was  having  his  hair  cut ;  he  took  two  locks  and  gave 
one  to  Mme  Campan,  and  the  other  to  Mme  Auguie  ; 
when  the  latter  endeavoured  to  kiss  his  hand,  he  cried 
"  No !  no !  "  and  folded  first  one  and  then  the  other 
faithful  creature  in  his  arms,  and  kissed  them  without 
being  able  to  utter  another  word. 

Mme  Campan  and  her  sister  then  went  into  the 
adjoining  cell,  the  walls  of  which  were  covered  with 
a  hideous  green  paper.  Here  they  found  the  queen, 
sick  from  grief  and  anxiety,  lying  in  bed,  with  a  rough 
but  good-natured-looking  female  in  attendance.  The 
queen,  on  seeing  the  two  weeping  visitors  standing  in 
in  the  doorway,  held  out  her  arms  towards  them, 
crying : — 

"  Come  !  come  !  oh  !  unhappy  women,  come  in  and 
see  a  woman  who  is  even  more  to  be  pitied  than  you, 
because  it  is  her  fault  that  you  are  all  so  unhappy ! 
We  are  lost ;  three  years  of  the  most  detestable  out- 
rages have  brought  us  here.  We  shall  succumb  to 
this  horrible  revolution  ;  many  others  will  perish  after 

174 


TWO  INNOCENT  VICTIMS 

us.  Everybody  has  had  a  hand  in  our  ruin — both 
innovators  and  lunatics,  ambitious  persons  anxious  to 
make  their  fortunes — for  the  most  rabid  Jacobins  only 
wanted  gold  and  preferment.  The  populace  is  wait- 
ing to  pillage.  There  is  not  a  single  patriot  in  the 
whole  infamous  horde ;  the  dmigrds  had  their  cabals 
and  plots !  The  foreigners  wanted  to  profit  by 
France's  dissensions  ;  everybody  has  helped  to  bring 
about  our  misfortunes !  " 

While  the  queen  was  still  lamenting  her  fate,  Mme 
de  Tourzel  entered  the  room  with  those  most  innocent 
victims,  the  litde  Dauphin  and  Madame  Royale, 
whereupon  the  queen  burst  forth  into  renewed 
lamentations. 

"■  Poor  children  !  "  cried  she,  *'  how  cruel  it  is  not 
to  be  able  to  leave  them  this  fair  heritage,  and  to  be 
obliged  to  say  :  *  All  this  finishes  with  us  M  .  .  ." 

The  queen  displayed  much  concern  on  learning 
of  the  dangers  to  which  her  faithful  friend  had  been 
exposed  on  her  account,  and  lamented  the  fact  that 
that  friend  was  now  without  a  roof  over  her  head  ;  to 
which  Mme  Campan  replied  that  such  a  trifling 
accident  was  unworthy  of  her  Majesty's  attention. 
Marie  Antoinette  also  expressed  deep  interest  in  the 
fate  of  those  of  her  ladies  whom  she  had  left  at  the 
Tuileries,  and  especially  for  the  princesse  de  Tarente, 
Mme  de  La  Roche  Aymon,  that  princess's  daughter, 
and  the  duchesse  de  Luynes,  of  whom  she  said  :  "  She 
was  one  of  the  first  women  to  be  seized  with  enthusiasm 
for  this  wretched  new-fangled  philosophy  ;  but  her  kind 
heart  soon  got  the  better  of  her  head,  and  latterly  I 
found  in  her  the  friend  of  old  days." 

These  words  in  those  last  weeks  of  the  Reign  of 

175 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

Terror,  when  the  humbly  born  Mme  Campan  and  the 
aristocratic  duchesse  de  Luynes  were  both  in  hiding 
at  Coubertin,  proved  of  much  consolation  to  the  latter  ; 
while  mingling  her  tears  with  the  faithful  Campan, 
she  would  often  exclaim  :  "  I  frequently  feel  the  need 
of  hearing  you  repeat  the  queen's  words." 

When  Mme  Campan  asked  Marie  Antoinette 
whether  the  foreign  ambassadors  were  doing  anything 
to  help  her,  the  queen  replied  that  their  hands  were 
tied,  but  that  the  wife^  of  the  English  ambassador  had 
been  so  good  as  to  send  some  clothes  belonging  to  her 
own  son  for  the  use  of  the  little  Dauphin,  who  was 
about  the  same  age  and  height.  During  this  conversa- 
tion Mme  Campan  bethoughtherself  of  some  important 
papers  bearing  the  queen's  signature  which,  while  her 
house  was  burning,  had  been  thrown  into  the  gutter 
where  any  unscrupulous  person  might  find  them  and 
use  them  against  her  mistress.  On  imparting  her  fears 
to  the  queen,  the  latter  became  quite  as  anxious  as  her 
friend,  and  told  her  to  go  to  the  Comitd  de  sHreU 
gdn^rale  and  make  a  declaration. 

Mme  Campan  hurried  off  to  the  Comitd,  where  she 
was  received  by  a  deputy  whose  name  she  did  not 
know,  who,  after  listening  to  her  story,  dismissed  her 
with  this  remark  : — 

"  I  cannot  receive  your  declaration.  Marie 
Antoinette  is  nothing  but  a  woman,  like  all  other 
French  women  ;  if  anything  happens  to  any  of  the 
papers  bearing  her  signature,  she  can  protest." 

The  rebuff  made  the  queen  bitterly  regret  that  she 
had  exposed  herself  to  fresh  attacks  from  her  enemies  ; 
she  burst  into  tears,  exclaiming  : — 

^  This  kind-hearted  woman  was  the  Duchess  of  Sutherland. 
176 


THE  QUEEN  REQUESTS  A  LOAN 

**  It  is  all  over  with  us ;  it  is  in  their  power  to  ruin 
us!" 

Years  after,   Mme  Campan  told  her  friends  that 
she  had  never  forgotten  the  day  when  she  saw  the  _ 
queen,  lying  in  bed  in  the  mean  room  at  the  Feuil- 
lants,  with  its  hideous  green  wall-paper,  and  shabby 
furniture,  shed  tears  for  the  last  time. 

The  queen,  as  already  stated,  had  been  relieved  of 
her  watch  and  purse  while  walking  to  the  Feuillants, 
so  she  begged  Mme  Auguid  to  lend  her  twenty-five 
louis,  which  that  lady  did,  and  thereby  signed  her 
own  death-warrant,  and  placed  the  life  of  her  sister 
in  jeopardy ;  for  the  queen,  on  being  questioned 
during  her  trial  concerning  the  money  found  on  her 
person,  confessed  that  it  was  a  loan  from  Mme 
Auguid. 

Before  bidding  farewell  to  Mme  Campan,  Marie 
Antoinette  made  her  promise  to  follow  her  wherever 
she  went  or  was  sent,  and  added  that  she  was  going 
to  ask  Potion  to  let  them  be  together. 

As  night  was  falling,  Mme  Campan,  leaving  her 
sister  with  the  queen,  went  back  to  the  house  of  her 
brother-in-law,  M.  Auguid,  who  himself  was  later 
thrown  into  prison,  in  order  to  make  arrangements 
for  her  son's  safety,  and  to  prepare  to  be  ready  to 
obey  the  queen's  summons.  But  when  on  the  follow- 
ing morning  she  presented  herself  at  the  Feuillants 
with  M.  Valadon,  for  whom  she  had  once  been  instru- 
mental in  obtaining  a  post,  and  begged  to  be  allowed 
to  see  her  Majesty,  she  was  denied  entrance,  as  Marie 
Antoinette  ''already  had  enough  women-folk  about 
her." 

On   August   13,    Mme   Campan   learnt  that  the 
M  177 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

royal  family  had  been  removed  to  their  second  prison, 
the  Temple. 

Mme  Auguie  was  not  allowed  to  accompany  her 
mistress,  but  was  detained  at  the  Feuillants  for  another 
twenty-four  hours. 

Mme  Cam  pan's  only  thought  now  was  to  share 
her  mistress's  captivity ;  she  therefore  went,  still 
accompanied  by  M.  Valadon,  to  see  the  then  all- 
powerful  Potion.  M.  Valadon  was  first  ushered  into 
the  presence  of  the  mayor  of  Paris.  When,  after 
having  represented  that  Mme  Campan  only  asked  to 
be  allowed  to  share  her  mistress's  captivity,  M.  Vala- 
don remarked  that  she  ought  not  to  be  suspected  of 
evil  designs,  and  that  nobody  could  possibly  blame 
her  for  her  devotion.  Potion,  who  later  voted  for  the 
execution  of  his  royal  prisoner,  Louis  xvi,  said  : — 

**  Let  her  console  herself  for  not  being  allowed  to 
go  to  the  Temple  with  the  knowledge  that  those  who 
are  on  duty  there  do  not  remain  very  long." 

Thinking  that  she  could  succeed  where  her  deputy 
had  failed,  Mme  Campan  forced  her  way  into  Potion's 
study,  whereupon  the  latter,  exasperated  by  her 
importunity,  repeated  what  he  had  alrealy  said  to  M. 
Valadon,  adding  that  if  she  worried  him  any  more  he 
should  send  her  to  the  prison  of  La  Force.  Two  or 
three  days  later  the  princesse  de  Lamballe,  Mme  de 
Tourzel  and  her  little  daughter  Pauline,  MM.  de 
Chamilly  and  Hue,  were  removed  from  the  Temple 
in  the  middle  of  the  night  and  transferred  to  that 
prison.  In  future  Mme  Campan  could  only  obtain 
information  of  her  mistress  from  newspapers  or  from 
the  National  Guards,  some  of  whom  were  more 
loquacious  than  their  companions. 

178 


CHAPTER  IX 

Doubts  are  expressed  concerning  the  decease  of  M.  Campan  plre — A 
dangerous  trust— M me  Campan  goes  to  Versailles — The  king's 
female  armourer  threatens  to  turn  informant — Trial  and  execution 
of  Louis  XVI — Marie  Antoinette  follows  her  husband — An  order 
is  issued  for  the  arrest  of  Mme  Campan  and  her  sister — Mme 
Augui^  commits  suicide — Mme  Campan  takes  her  motherless 
nieces  to  live  with  her. 

Mme  Campan's  devotion  to  the  royal  prisoners  in  the 
Temple  was  too  well  known  for  her  to  escape 
suspicion.  The  Tuileries  had  been  carefully  searched 
after  the  departure  of  their  owners  and  many  import- 
ant documents,  including  a  letter  from  the  comte 
d'Artois  to  the  king,  evidently  only  one  of  many,  had 
been  discovered  in  the  fatal  iron  cupboard.  Now 
Robespierre  was  aware  of  the  fact  that  Mme  Campan's 
late  father-in-law  had  enjoyed  the  king's  entire  con- 
fidence. What  was  more  natural  than  to  suppose  that 
the  unfortunate  sovereign  had  entrusted  other  import- 
ant papers  to  his  old  servitor  on  the  approach  of  the 
storm?  But  Robespierre  was  much  mistaken  when 
he  took  it  into  his  head  to  imagine  that  M.  Campan 
pere  was  not  really  dead,  but  was  in  hiding  some- 
where in  order  to  escape  being  obliged  to  answer  any 
inconvenient  questions  concerning  the  said  papers. 
So  convinced  was  the  Incorruptible  that,  on  meeting 
the  former  tutor  of  Mme  Campan's  son  in  the  street, 
he  requested  that  gentleman  to  tell  him  on  his  honour 

179 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMP  AN 

if  his  late  pupil's  grandfather  was  really  dead  or 
not,  to  which  the  tutor  replied  that  he  was  quite 
certain  that  M.  Campan/^r^  had  died  in  the  previous 
year  at  La  Briche  because  he  had  been  a  mourner  at 
his  funeral,  which  had  taken  place  in  the  cemetry  of 
Epinay.     Still  unconvinced,  Robespierre  said  : — 

*' Well,  then,  bring  me  the  certificate  of  his  death 
to-morrow  morning — it  is  most  important." 

The  tutor  then  hastened  to  Mme  Campan  and 
told  her  of  the  meeting  ;  like  a  prudent  woman  she 
took  care  to  send  the  necessary  certificate  to  the 
Incorruptible  before  the  hour  mentioned.  But  she 
felt  that  the  danger  was  growing  nearer,  and  she 
realized  that  the  discovery  of  the  portfolio  confided  to 
her  care  by  the  king  in  the  previous  month  of  July, 
would  lead  to  her  own  imprisonment.  So  with  many 
misgivings  she  gave  the  precious  trust  into  the  hands 
of  M.  Gougenot,  the  king's  steward,  and  at  that  time 
as  anxious  to  serve  his  unfortunate  master  as  herself. 

On  August  29  her  brother-in-law's  servants  in- 
formed her  that  his  house,  like  those  of  his  neighbours, 
was  about  to  be  searched  by  fifty  armed  men  ;  and 
indeed  during  the  following  night  domiciliary  visits 
took  place  all  over  Paris  by  order  of  the  AssembUe, 
when  two  thousand  guns  were  seized  and  nearly  three 
thousand  persons  arrested — most  of  the  latter,  how- 
ever, were  released  on  the  morrow. 

Mme  Campan  had  scarcely  time  to  congratulate 
herself  upon  the  fact  that  the  searchers  would  find 
nothing  worth  taking  in  her  brother-in-law's  house, 
when  M.  Gougenot  rushed  into  the  room  where  she 
was  sitting,  divested  himself  of  the  heavy  coat  which 
he   was   wearing,  although   it   was  oppressively   hot 

180 


\ 


A  DOMICILIARY  VISIT 

weather,  and  flung  a  voluminous  packet  at  her  feet 
with  these  words  : — 

"  Here  is  the  portfolio ;  as  I  did  not  receive  it 
from  the  king's  hands,  I  shall  only  be  doing  my  duty 
if  I  give  it  back  to  you,"  having  said  which  he 
hastened  towards  the  door. 

Mme  Campan,  nearly  speechless  with  terror, 
managed  to  articulate  a  prayer  that,  even  if  he  would 
not  or  could  not  keep  the  precious  object,  he  would 
help  her  to  find  a  safe  hiding-place. 

But  the  erstwhile  royalist  seemed  to  have  lost  his 
head  with  terror ;  he  swore  that  he  could  do  nothing 
in  the  matter,  and  would  not  so  much  as  listen  to 
Mme  Campan's  proposals. 

**I  told  him,"  she  writes,  ''that  the  house  was 
about  to  be  searched ;  I  confided  to  him  what  the 
queen  had  told  me  concerning  the  contents  of  the 
portfolio,  to  all  of  which  he  only  said  : — 

"  '  Come,  make  up  your  mind,  I  won't  have  any- 
thing to  do  with  the  matter ! ' 

'*  I  then  paused  for  a  few  seconds  deep  in  thought, 
after  which  I  began  to  stride  up  and  down  the  room, 
repeating  my  thoughts  aloud,  although  I  was  unaware 
of  the  fact.  The  unfortunate  Gougenot  seemed  as  if 
turned  to  stone. 

'' '  Yes,'  said  I,  *  when  one  can  no  longer  com- 
municate with  one's  king  and  receive  his  commands, 
no  matter  how  loyal  one  may  be,  one  can  only  serve 
him  by  using  one's  own  judgment.  The  queen  told 
me  :  "  This  portfolio  may  fall  into  the  hands  of  the 
revolutionists."  She  also  mentioned  that  it  contained 
a  document  which  might  be  useful  should  a  lawsuit  be 
brought  against  the  king.     It  is  my  duty  to  interpret 

i8i 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

her  words  for  myself,  and  to  consider  them  as  a  com- 
mand. Her  meaning  was  thus :  "You  are  to  save  a 
certain  paper  and  destroy  the  others  if  there  is  any 
danger  of  the  portfolio  being  taken  from  you."  That 
was  enough  ;  she  did  not  need  to  furnish  me  with  any 
details  concerning  the  contents  of  the  portfolio,  the 
order  to  keep  it  carefully  sufficed.  It  probably  still 
contains  letters  from  the  dmigrds ;  all  plans  and 
arrangements  are  now  useless,  and  the  events  of 
August  lo  and  the  king  s  imprisonment  have  severed 
the  chain  of  political  scruples.  This  house  is  about 
to  be  searched.  I  cannot  hide  such  a  voluminous 
package ;  by  imprudently  keeping  it,  I  might  cause 
the  king's  ruin.  Let  us  open  the  portfolio ;  let  us 
save  the  most  important  document  and  destroy  all  the 
others.' 

"  So  saying  I  seized  a  knife  and  cut  open  the  sides 
of  the  portfolio,  when  I  beheld  a  number  of  envelopes 
addressed  in  the  king's  own  handwriting.  M. 
Gougenot  likewise  found  the  king's  private  seals, 
such  as  they  were  before  the  AssenibUe  forced  him  to 
change  the  inscription.  Just  at  that  minute  we  heard 
a  loud  noise.  M.  Gougenot  now  consented  to  fasten 
the  portfolio,  to  hide  it  under  his  greatcoat  and  go  to 
whatever  place  I  considered  safe.  He  made  me  swear 
by  all  I  held  most  sacred  that  I  would  maintain  on 
every  occasion  that  I  had  acted  of  my  own  free  will, 
and  that,  no  matter  what  happened,  I  would  assume 
the  responsibility,  be  it  praise  or  blame.  I  held  up 
my  hand  and  took  the  oath  required  of  me,  whereupon 
he  left  the  room.  Half  an  hour  later  the  house  was 
invaded  by  several  armed  men  ;  sentries  were  placed 
at  all  the  doors,  all  writing-tables  and  cupboards  of 

182 


INCRIMINATING  PAPERS 

which  the  keys  were  missing  were  forced  open ;  the 
vases  and  flower-boxes  in  the  garden  were  examined  ; 
the  cellars  were  searched.  The  ring-leader  cried 
repeatedly : — 

**  *  Look  very  carefully  for  any  papers ! ' 
"  M.  Gougenot  returned  during  the  following  after- 
noon ;  he  still  had  the  seals  concealed  on  his  person. 
He  brought  me  an  account  of  all  the  papers  he  had 
burnt.  The  portfolio  had  contained  letters  from 
Monsieur,  the  comte  d'Artois,  Madame  Adelaide, 
Madame  Victoire,  the  comte  de  Lameth,  M.  de 
Malesherbes,  M.  de  Montmorin,  and  very  many  from 
Mirabeau ;  a  verbal  process  bearing  the  Ministers' 
signatures,  which  the  king  considered  very  valuable 
because  it  proved  that  war  had  been  declared  against 
his  wishes  ;  the  copy  of  a  letter  written  by  the  king  to 
his  brothers  asking  them  to  return  to  France  ;  a  list 
of  the  diamonds  sent  by  the  queen  to  Brussels  (the 
two  last  documents  were  in  my  own  handwriting) ;  and 
a  receipt  for  400,000  francs  signed  by  a  well-known 
banker,  representing  part  of  the  sum  of  800,000  francs 
which  the  queen  had  saved  during  her  reign  out  of 
her  yearly  allowance  of  300,000  francs,  and  the  present 
of  100,000  ^cus  received  by  her  on  the  birth  of  the 
Dauphin.  ..." 

After  some  discussion  Mme  Campan  and  her 
visitor  decided  that  the  verbal  process  and  the  receipt 
had  better  be  kept,  as  the  first  could  do  the  royal 
cause  no  harm ;  the  second  was  perhaps  more 
dangerous,  as  people  would  be  sure  to  blame  the 
ex-queen  for  saving  money  for  her  own  use  at  a  time 
when  famine  was  stalking  through  the  land  of  France. 
The  seals,  about  which  the   queen   had   been   very 

183 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

anxious,  probably  because  she  still  hoped  that  the 
king  would  recover  his  lost  authority,  were  thrown 
by  M.  Gougenot  into  the  Seine,  one  from  the  Pont- 
Neuf  and  the  other  from  the  Pont- Royal.  One 
wonders  whether  by  some  strange  accident  the  river 
will  ever  give  up  those  relics  of  a  dead  monarchy. 

As  is  often  the  case  when  one  has  been  obliged  to 
act  on  one's  own  responsibility,  poor  Mme  Campan 
had  no  sooner  got  rid  of  the  compromising  portfolio 
than  she  was  tormented  with  fear  lest  she  should  have 
acted  contrary  to  her  royal  master's  wishes. 

Realizing  that  there  was  but  little  chance  of  being 
able  to  serve  her  king  or  queen,  Mme  Campan  now 
left  Paris  and  went  to  Versailles.  To  add  to  her 
troubles  she  began  to  have  daily  visits  from  a  poor 
seamstress  who  had  been  employed  to  make  the 
famous  waistcoat  and  belt  worn  by  the  king  on  the 
anniversary  of  the  taking  of  the  Bastille,  and  who, 
although  really  attached  to  the  royal  cause,  had  got 
an  idea  into  her  head  that  she,  her  husband,  and  her 
children  would  be  surely  murdered  if  she  did  not  go  to 
the  AssembUe  and  confess  her  crime  of  high  treason 
against  the  nation.  For  a  whole  fortnight  the  poor 
demented  creature  appeared  punctually  every  morning 
while  Mme  Campan  was  still  in  bed,  and  renewed  her 
assertions  that,  as  she  did  not  wish  to  be  beggared,  she 
was  *'  going  off  to  Paris  this  very  minute  "  to  denounce 
herself.  It  required  the  greatest  tact  on  Mme 
Campan's  part  to  convince  the  woman  that  she  **  had 
only  acted  on  the  orders  of  somebody  else,  that  nobody 
would  ever  know  anything  about  the  matter  unless 
she  herself  mentioned  it,  and  in  that  case  the  unhappy 
king  would  be  the  first  person  to  suffer  because  the 

184 


M.  GOUGENOT  RECOVERS  FROM  ALARM 

waistcoat  had  been  made  at  his  command,  then  it 
would  be  Mme  Campan's  turn  to  suffer  because  she 
had  superintended  the  work,  while  the  seamstress 
would  be  excused  as  having  only  obeyed  orders." 

The  seamstress,  appeased  for  a  few  hours,  would 
then  go  away,  but  she  never  failed  to  reappear  on  the 
morrow  with  some  new  tale  of  having  seen  the  Virgin 
Mary  in  her  dreams,  and  of  having  been  told  by  her 
celestial  visitor  that  nobody  had  the  right  to  sacrifice 
their  husband  and  their  children  for  any  human  being 
whatsoever.  Luckily  these  visions  ceased  at  the  end  of 
a  fortnight,  whereupon  the  poor  creature  became  calmer 
and  no  longer  paid  Mme  Campan  any  surprise  visits. 

The  month  of  December  1792  saw  the  much- 
talked-of  trial  of  Louis  xvi.  Mme  Campan,  from  her 
refuge  at  Versailles,  read  the  newspapers  with  anguish 
in  her  heart.  She  sent  a  trusty  messenger  to  M. 
Gougenot,  who  was  still  in  Paris,  begging  him  to  come 
and  see  her  at  Versailles,  as  she  was  most  anxious  for 
the  king  to  hear  what  she  had  done  with  the  precious 
portfolio.  This  request  M.  Gougenot,  having  re- 
covered from  his  fright,  consented  to  grant ;  together 
they  agreed  that  M.  Gougenot  was  to  have  an  inter- 
view with  M.  de  Malesherbes,  chosen  by  the  king 
from  among  a  number  of  people,  including  one  woman, 
Olympe  de  Gouges,  who  had  offered  to  defend  him. 

During  this  interview,  which  took  place  in  M.  de 
Malesherbes'  own  house,  M.  Gougenot  informed  the 
worthy  Minister  what  Mme  Campan  had  done  with 
the  contents  of  the  portfolio,  and  gave  him  the  verbal 
process  which  she  rightly  judged  to  be  the  most 
valuable  paper,  hoping  that  it  would  serve  to  prove 
the  king's  innocence  of  any  crime  of  treason  against 

185 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

the  nation.     When  Louis  xvi  heard  what  the  faithful 
Campan  had  done,  he  said  to  M.  de  Malesherbes  : — 

"  Tell  Mme  Campan  that  she  has  acted  exactly  as 
I  had  ordered  her  to  act,  and  I  thank  her  for  having 
done  so.  She  is  among  those  persons  whose  fidelity 
and  whose  services  I  regret  I  cannot  reward." 

The  story  of  the  trial  of  Louis  xvi  is  too  well 
known  to  need  repetition  here.  With  the  exception 
of  an  untruth,  the  denial  of  any  knowledge  of  the 
existence  of  the  iron  cupboard,  the  king  behaved 
throughout  with  much  dignity  ;  even  his  adversaries 
were  constrained  to  confess  that  he  conducted  himself 
during  those  days  of  anguish  with  **  becoming 
humility." 

When,  on  the  morrow  of  his  execution,  Mme 
Campan  learnt  that  her  kind  master  had  gone  to 
be  judged  by  that  other  Judge  who  will  surely  be 
more  merciful  than  his  Ministers  on  earth,  she 
wrote  : — 

"  I  think  I  should  have  died  of  despair  if  I  had 
not  found  some  consolation  in  the  recollection  of  all 
his  kindness  to  me.  .  .  ." 

Two  days  after  the  king's  execution,  Mme  Campan's 
brother,  M.  Genest,  who  had  been  appointed  by  the 
Girondins  to  represent  France  in  the  United  States, 
and  who,  on  the  fall  of  that  party  after  the  September 
massacres,  had  been  recalled  to  his  native  land  to  give 
an  account  of  his  deeds  and  words — and  probably  lose 
his  head — left  France,  never  again  to  return,  and  went 
back  to  America,  which  in  those  days  was  indeed  **  the 
land  of  the  free."     A  few  days  after  his  departure,^ 

^  On  reaching  America,  M.  Genest  received  a  warm  welcome  from 
an  old  friend,  Mr.  Clinton,  the  then  Governor  of  New  York,  and  later 

1 86 


Copyri^Jti  /y\ 


AlARiK  Antoinette  and  her  Children. 

From  a  painting  bj'  Le  Brun. 


[7.'/^«7v/'''V'<:>.'' ; 


r     o     c    • 


EDMOND  GENEST  GOES  TO  AMERICA 

the  Assemblde  nationale  took  it  into  its  head  that 
M.  Genest  had  returned  to  his  native  land  and  was  in 
hiding  in  Brest.  Now  it  happened  that  Mme  Campan 
was  spending  the  day  in  Paris  with  her  companion, 
Mme  Voisin,  when  she  heard  two  newsvendors 
bawling  out :  "  The  arrival  in  Brest  of  M.  Genest, 
Minister  of  the  Republic  to  the  United  States ;  this 
Minister  will  immediately  make  the  perilous  ascent  of 
the  guillotine  ! "  This  news  was  a  great  shock  to 
Mme  Campan,  who  believed — and  with  reason — that 
her  brother  was  on  his  way  to  America ;  she  fainted. 
Mme  Voisin,  with  the  help  of  two  or  three  compas- 
sionate bystanders,  carried  her  into  a  shop,  where 
restoratives  were  applied  and  she  soon  recovered 
consciousness. 

In  the  spring  of  1793,  Mme  Campan  first  paid  a 
brief  visit  to  Beauplan,  and  then  moved  to  the  Chateau 
of  Coubertin,  a  mile  distant,  which  she  and  the 
Augui6  family  hired  ;  it  was  while  she  was  here  that 
she  heard  that  Marie  Antoinette  had  been  deprived 
of  her  son,  a  far  more  cruel  punishment  than  the 
sentence  of  death  passed  upon  the  Niobe  of  the  French 
Revolution  in  the  following  October. 

**  Marie  Antoinette  showed  much  firmness  and 
dignity,"  writes  M.  Ernest  Hamel,  who  cannot  be 
accused  of  excessive  sympathy  with  the  royal  cause. 
"She  listened  to  her  sentence  with  perfect  calmness," 
says  another  historian. 

vice-president  of  the  United  States,  who  sheltered  him  in  his  home  and 
finally  accepted  him  as  his  son-in-law.  M.  Genest  became  an  American 
citizen  and  settled  in  the  State  of  New  York,  where  he  devoted  himself 
to  farming.  After  the  death  of  his  first  wife,  he  married  a  daughter  of 
Samuel  Osgood,  postmaster-general  under  Washington.  Mr.  Genet,  as 
he  now  called  himself,  died  at  Greenbush  in  1834. 

187 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

Who,  remembering  the  arrogant,  extravagant 
Marie  Antoinette,  so  careless  of  her  good  name  in  the 
days  of  the  Petit  Trianon,  would  have  believed  her 
capable  of  bearing  her  burden  of  grief  with  such 
fortitude  ?  Alas,  poor  human  nature  !  it  would  seem 
as  if  some  great  trial  or  sorrow  were  often  required  to 
bring  out  our  good  qualities — the  little  worries,  tempta- 
tions, and  disappointments  of  daily  life  are  too  much 
for  most  of  us. 

When  questioned  during  her  trial  as  to  the  sum  of 
twenty-five  louis  found  on  her  person,  Marie  Antoinette 
imprudently  said  that  Mme  Augui6  had  lent  it  to  her 
after  her  purse  and  watch  had  been  stolen  during  that 
calvaire  from  the  Tuileries  to  the  Feuillants,  and 
begged  that  the  money  might  be  repaid  to  her  faithful 
"lioness,"  as  she  had  called  Mme  Auguid  ever  since 
the  terrible  events  of  October  6,  1789,  when  Mme 
Campan's  sister  had  saved  her  mistress's  life  by  her 
courage  and  promptitude. 

An  order  for  the  arrest  of  that  lady  was  immedi- 
ately signed. 

Now,  Mme  Auguid,  more  lucky  than  most  of 
the  victims  of  the  Reign  of  Terror,  had  a  friend  in  the 
person  of  the  secretary  to  the  revolutionary  tribunal  ; 
this  gentleman  wisely  destroyed  the  document  and,  in 
order  to  ensure  Mme  Augui^'s  safety,  inscribed  a 
fictitious  name,  that  of  Augal,  on  the  list  of  captives 
in  the  Paris  prisons. 

For  several  months  Mme  Campan  and  the  Auguie 
family,  consisting  of  M.  and  Mme  Auguid  and  their  three 
daughters,  continued  to  live  unmolested  at  Coubertin. 
The  news  of  Marie  Antoinette's  execution,  although 
expected,    completely   crushed   her    faithful   waiting- 

188 


MME  CAMPAN  IS  ARRESTED 

women  for  a  time.  But  their  grief  and  despair  was 
changed  to  anxiety  for  their  own  safety  when,  nine 
months  after  their  mistress's  death,  ''an  atrocious  man 
of  quality,"  as  Mme  Campan  quaintly  puts  it,  wishing 
to  be  held  in  consideration  by  Robespierre,  wrote  to 
the  Comity  de  Salut  public  : — 

'*  I  have  been  through  all  the  prisons  in  Paris ;  I 
am  astonished  not  to  find  the  name  of  Mme  Augui6, 
designated  erroneously  during  Marie  Antoinette's 
trial  as  Mme  Augal ;  she  and  her  sister  ought  to  have 
been  thrown  into  prison  long  ago." 

It  frequently  happened  that  the  victims  of  the 
Terrorists  were  able  to  slip  through  the  fingers  of 
their  would-be  executioners ;  but  it  seldom  happened 
that  they  were  able  to  free  themselves  a  second  time 
from  the  meshes  of  that  far-reaching  system  of  denunci- 
ation which  was  the  keystone  of  the  Reign  of  Terror. 

Four  soldiers  were  immediately  despatched  to 
Coubertin. 

Mme  Campan  and  her  brother-in-law  offered  no 
resistance,  but  it  was  otherwise  with  Mme  Augui^ ;  it 
is  probable  that  like  many  another  horrified  spectator 
of  the  Revolution  she,  on  learning  that  she  was  about 
to  be  arrested,  became  insane ;  mad  with  terror,  she 
jumped  upon  an  ass  and  fled  across  the  fields  till  she 
reached  Paris,  where  she  hid  herself  in  a  small  furnished 
room.  But  even  here  she  did  not  feel  in  safety. 
Having  written  the  following  despairing  message  to 
her  family : — 

'*  If  I  perish  on  the  scaffold,  my  husband,  already 
a  prisoner,  will  also  die  ;  our  property  will  be  confis- 
cated. .  .  .  My  daughters,  what  will  become  of  you  } 
If  I  can  escape  death  on  the  scaffold,  perhaps  I  can 

189 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

save  my  own  property  for  you,"  she  rushed  to  the 
window  and  flung  herself  down  into  the  street  below, 
crying  as  she  did  so  : — 

**  Never  shall  the  executioners  lay  a  finger  on  me." 
Had  the  poor  creature  waited  a  few  days  she 
would  have  seen  her  husband  and  sister  released  from 
prison  by  the  execution  of  Robespierre.  Her  eldest 
daughter  Antoinette  nearly  died  of  grief  on  learning 
of  her  mother's  suicide  ;  after  her  father's  return  to 
Coubertin,  it  was  decided  that  she  was  to  reside  in 
Paris  with  him,  while  her  two  sisters,  Egl^  and  Adele, 
were  to  go  to  Saint-Germain  ^  with  their  aunt,  Mme 
Campan,  who  in  future  was  to  act  the  mother  to  them 
as  well  as  to  many  other  motherless  little  ones. 

*  Georgette  Ducrest  in  her  memoirs  asserts  that  Mme  Campan  went 
immediately  after  Robespierre's  death  to  stay  at  Poissy,  where  she  was 
the  guest  of  a  Creole,  Mme  Hortense  Lamothe,  who  was  sheltering  at  the 
same  time  Mme  de  Beauharnais,  a  Creole  like  herself,  and  the  future 
Empress  Josephine,  and  Claire  de  Vergennes,  the  daughter  of  Louis 
xvi's  late  Minister.  However,  Mme  Campan  does  not  mention  this  visit 
in  her  own  memoirs. 


190 


SECOND    PART 

THE  GOVERNESS  OF  THE  BONAPARTES 

CHAPTER   X 

Mme  Campan  realizes  her  vocation  and  opens  a  school— She  is  perse- 
cuted by  the  Directoire — Maman  Campan  earns  her  title  and  the 
affection  of  her  pupils — The  Seminary  at  Montagne  de  Bon-Air  has 
many  imitators — Hortense  and  Emilie  de  Beauharnais,  Pauline  and 
Caroline  Bonaparte,  join  the  school  —  Pauline  marries  General 
Leclerc — Napoleon  the  match-maker. 

Mme  Campan,  deprived  of  the  greater  part  of  her 
fortune,  with  a  sick  husband  burdened  by  30,000  francs 
of  debts,  a  mother  who  had  reached  the  allotted  span 
of  human  life,  a  son  still  too  young  to  go  out  into  the 
world  to  fight  for  himself,  three  motherless  nieces  and 
several  other  affectionate  but  penniless  relatives,  was 
now  face  to  face  with  a  huge  problem — how  was  she 
to  support  all  these  helpless  creatures  ?  Her  first  care 
was  to  pay  off  her  husband's  debts  ;  this  done,  she 
found  herself  possessed  of  exactly  one  assignat,  worth 
500  francs, /^2^r  tout  potage.  But  there  is  a  fund  of 
energy  in  Frenchwomen  which  forbids  them,  when  in 
trouble,  to  sit  down,  seek  comfort  in  tears,  and  wait  for 
somebody  to  help  them.  No,  Mme  Campan  had 
looked  death  in  the  face ;  she  was  now  ready  to  face 
poverty,  and  was  determined  not  to  be  worsted  without 
a  severe  struggle. 

During    those     anxious    months    in    hiding    at 

191 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

Coubertin  she  had  tried  her  hand  at  teaching  her  son 
and  her  nieces,  and  the  result  had  been  so  successful 
that  she  had  resolved  to  adopt  the  profession  of  school- 
mistress should  she  ever  be  forced  to  earn  her  daily 
bread.  Exactly  one  month  after  the  death  of  Robes- 
pierre, she,  having  taken  the  old  Hotel  de  Rohan  at 
Saint-Germain,  a  huge  place  with  a  beautiful  garden 
situated  in  the  rue  de  Poissy  on  the  edge  of  the  forest, 
which  place  she  chose  on  account  of  its  fine  air,  wrote 
in  her  best  hand  (as  she  was  too  poor  to  pay  any 
printers  bills)  one  hundred  prospectuses,  which  she 
then  sent  to  those  of  her  friends  who  had  been  lucky 
enough  to  pass  unscathed  through  the  fires  of  the 
Revolution.  She  would  have  preferred  Versailles  as 
her  future  home  ;  but  she  could  not  face  the  ghosts  of 
the  happy  past  which  even  to-day  haunt  that  pleasant 
town.  In  order  to  convince  her  friends  that  she  still 
belonged  to  the  old  school  and  respected  the  rules  of 
religion  and  good  society,  she,  on  opening  her 
seminary,  engaged  a  nun  belonging  to  the  sisterhood 
of  the  Enfant  JdsuSy  and  waited  for  the  pupils  who 
soon  came,  few  in  number  at  first,  it  is  true,  but  ever 
more  numerous  as  the  weeks  passed. 

M.  Fr^ddric  Masson  says  rather  unkindly :  "  It 
was  a  singularly  happy  thought  on  Mme  Campan's 
part  when  she  set  up  a  boarding-school  at  the 
Montagne  de  Bon-Air,  ci-devant  Saint-Germain-en- 
Laye,  and  summoned  her  nieces,  the  demoiselles 
Augui6,  to  make  a  show  and  play  the  part  of  the 
boarders  who  failed  to  put  in  an  appearance." 

In  the  following  year  Mme  Campan  found  that  her 
pupils  had  increased  to  sixty.  The  fact  that  she  had 
been  waiting-woman  to  Marie  Antoinette  had  much 

192 


MAMAN  CAMP  AN 

to  do  with  her  success  ;  but,  whereas  many  mothers 
were  proud  to  send  their  daughters  to  learn  from  her 
who  was  in  future  to  be  known  as  Maman  Campan 
the  courtly  manners  which  had  once  reigned  at 
Versailles,  the  mistress  of  the  young  ladies'  boarding- 
school  at  Montagne  de  Bon-Air  found  herself  the 
object  of  much  suspicion  to  those  wise  persons  who 
did  not  wish  to  see  the  frivolous  doings  at  Trianon 
imitated  in  the  drawing-rooms  of  the  new  France. 
The  studies  at  her  establishment  were  subjected  to 
rigorous  supervision  by  the  Government ;  she  was 
not  allowed  to  teach  French  history  to  her  little  pupils, 
Greek  and  Roman  history  being  considered  quite 
sufficient  for  the  future  mothers  of  good  citoyens, 

Mme  Campan  was  the  first  woman  who  dared  to 
have  a  chapel  in  the  grounds  of  her  establishment ;  in 
the  following  year  the  Directoire  learnt  of  the  fact,  and 
sent  word  that  it  must  be  closed  at  once  ;  of  course  she 
had  to  obey. 

It  is  true  that  Maman  Campan  taught  the  Bible 
during  certain  days  of  the  week,  but  not  a  day  passed 
that  she  did  not  expect  to  see  the  Holy  Book  confis- 
cated. Her  fears  were  realized  one  day  when  she 
was  surprised  with  the  Book  in  her  hand  by  several 
officials,  who  immediately  ordered  her  to  cease  teaching 
her  pupils  ''fables  and  superstitions."  When  Mme 
Campan,  nothing  daunted,  asked  her  visitors  what  she 
was  to  teach  "  her  children  "  in  place  of  religion,  they 
replied  : — 

"  Citoyenne,  your  arguments  are  quite  out  of  date. 
Don't  make  remarks :  when  the  nation  speaks  it 
expects  obedience,  not  wit." 

Familiarity  with  danger  is  apt  to  breed  contempt. 
N  193 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

Mme  Campan,  wishing  to  keep  the  memory  of  her 
beloved  mistress  fresh  in  the  minds  of  the  younger 
generation,  invented  an  ingenious  picture-frame,  one 
side  of  which  displayed  the  Rights  of  Man,  while  from 
the  other  the  fair,  proud  face  of  the  dead  queen  gazed 
down  on  the  busy  children.  Marie  Antoinette  usually 
occupied  the  post  of  honour ;  however,  whenever 
strangers  rang  at  the  gate  of  the  seminary,  she  was 
turned  with  her  face  to  the  wall  and  the  Rights  of 
Man  displayed  to  the  appreciative  gaze  of  the  little 
citoyennes.  On  one  occasion  a  zealous  patriot  paid  a 
surprise  visit  to  the  boarding-school,  and  Mme  Campan 
only  just  had  time  to  turn  the  queen's  portrait  to 
the  wall  when  her  visitor  entered  the  class-room 
unannounced.  After  asking  the  little  maids  various 
awkward  and  unexpected  questions — why  is  it  that 
examiners  always  choose  subjects  with  which  their 
victims  are  unfamiliar  ? — he  went  up  to  the  Ten  Com- 
mandments of  the  Revolution  and  ordered  one  of  the 
trembling  infants  to  recite  them.  Whereupon  a  plucky 
little  Spanish  girl,  Flavie  by  name,  stood  up  and, 
notwithstanding  the  fact  that  she  was  inwardly  quaking 
for  herself  and  her  comrades,  rattled  them  off  as  pertly 
as  a  parrot,  newly  arrived  from  the  West  Indies,  raps 
out  his  latest  repertoire  of  oaths. 

Mme  Campan's  sisters,  Mmes  Rousseau  and 
Pannelier,  now  came  to  help  her  teach  the  little  girls 
who  were  beginning  to  flock  to  Montagne  de  Bon- 
Air.  With  her  increasing  success,  Mme  Campan 
bought  several  pieces  of  furniture  which  had  been 
stolen  from  her  house  in  Paris,  precious  relics  of 
happier  days ;  having  paid  off  all  her  debts,  she  was 
able  to  look  calmly  into  the  future. 

194 


HORTENSE  DE  BEAUHARNAIS 

In  the  autumn  of  1795  Mme  Campan  had  one 
hundred  pupils,  although  her  school  was  considered 
very  expensive  in  those  days.  During  one  of  those 
pleasant  afternoons  in  October,  when  summer  seems 
fain  to  linger  a  little  longer  before  giving  place  to 
golden  autumn,  Mme  Campan  received  a  visit  from 
Mme  de  Beauharnais,  to  whom  a  literary  friend  had 
recommended  the  establishment  at  Montagne  de  Bon- 
Air  ;  the  future  empress  had  just  placed  her  son 
Eugene  at  Father  McDermott's  College  des  Irlandais 
in  the  same  town  where  Mme  Campan's  own  son 
Henri  was  also  studying,  and  she  was  anxious  for  the 
late  queen's  faithful  waiting-woman  to  educate  her 
little  daughter  Hortense,  then  aged  twelve,  and  her 
niece  Emilie  de  Beauharnais.  This  trust  Maman 
Campan  accepted,  promising  to  mother  the  little  girls  ; 
and  well  did  she  keep  her  promise  to  Hortense,  for 
Maman  Campan,  until  her  death  in  1822,  loved  the 
unhappy  Hortense  as  dearly  as  if  she  had  been  her 
own  flesh  and  blood. 

Hortense  and  her  cousin  Emilie  shared  a  room 
with  Egl6  and  Adele  Auguid  and  Mme  Pannelier  s 
little  daughter,  and  enjoyed  many  favours. 

Some  months  after  their  arrival,  the  two  little 
Miles  de  Beauharnais  were  called  into  Maman 
Campan's  sanctum  in  order  to  be  inspected  by  a 
visitor,  General  Bonaparte  by  name,  who  was  not  a 
stranger  to  little  Hortense,  as  she  had  already  seen 
him  at  a  party  given  by  Barras,  on  which  occasion  he 
had  taken  no  notice  of  her;  now,  however,  he  ex- 
amined his  future  stepdaughter  so  closely  that  she 
blushed  to  the  roots  of  her  hair,  lost  her  head  and  her 
tongue,  and  dashed  out  of  the  room  like  a  little  savage 

195 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

when  she  was  told  she  might  return  to  learn  her 
book. 

In  the  beginning  of  the  month  of  March  1796, 
Maman  Campan  again  called  Hortense  into  her 
sanctum  and  informed  her  that  her  mother  was  going 
to  marry  again.  When  Hortense  heard  that  "the 
Ogre,"  as  she  secretly  called  the  mysterious  visitor, 
was  to  be  her  stepfather,  she  burst  into  tears  which 
neither  Maman  Campan's  kisses  nor  her  capacious 
bonbonniere  could  check.  With  her  eyes  still  red, 
Hortense  returned  to  her  companions,  who  gathered 
round  their  "  Petite  Bonne,"  as  they  always  called  her 
— for  Hortense,  from  her  earliest  years,  was  an 
engaging  little  creature — and  asked  whether  Maman 
Campan  had  been  scolding  her.  At  this  she  burst 
into  a  still  louder  fit  of  crying,  and  sobbed  out  that 
**  she  was  very  unhappy  because  her  Mama  was  going 
to  marry  the  Ogre  who  frightened  her,  and  she  was 
afraid  that  he  would  be  dreadfully  strict  with  her  and 
poor  Eugene." 

When  General  Bonaparte,  the  day  after  his 
marriage  to  the  graceful  Creole  widow,  took  his  bride 
and  his  sisters,  Pauline  and  Caroline,  to  see  his  step- 
children at  Montagne  de  Bon-Air,  he  found  Hortense 
still  as  shy  as  ever.  The  Ogre  insisted  upon  going  to 
see  the  children  at  their  lessons  and  worrying  them 
with  questions  to  which  the  poor  little  dears  made  but 
lame  replies — when  indeed  they  were  able  to  make 
any  at  all — for  the  General's  piercing  gaze  and  abrupt 
manner  had  the  effect  of  depriving  the  more  timid 
pupils  of  their  voices.  However,  as  the  future 
Emperor  of  the  French  was  feeling  particularly  happy 
that  day,  he  determined  that   Mme  Campan  should 

196 


HORTENSE   DE   BeAUHARNAIS. 


From  the  portrait  by  Fran9ois  Gerard  at  the  Musee  Calvet,  Avignon. 
By  kind  permission  of  the  Director. 


PAULINE  AND  CAROLINE  BONAPARTE 

feel  equally  so  ;  therefore  he  praised  both  the  quaking 
infants  and  their  scarcely  less  timid  governess,  and, 
presenting  his  sisters  Pauline  and  Caroline  to  their 
future  schoolmistress,  said  : — 

"  I  am  going  to  confide  my  sisters  to  your  charge, 
Mme  Campan  ;  I  ought  to  warn  you,  however,  that 
Caroline  is  a  sad  dunce.  Try  to  make  her  as  learned 
as  dear  Hortense." 

So  saying  he  pinched  "dear  Hortense's  "  ear  very 
gently,  whereupon  she  turned  the  colour  of  a  peony. 

Pauline's  stay  under  Mme  Campan's  charge  was 
not  a  lengthy  one.  But  before  Mile  Caroline  had 
been  many  hours  at  Montagne  de  Bon-Air  she  had 
made  quite  a  number  of  enemies  owing  to  her  bad 
manners — which  her  schoolmistress  was  never  able  to 
cure — and  to  her  vulgar  pride  in  the  handsome  jewels 
which  her  generous  brother  had  given  her,  and  which 
excited  the  envy  of  one  of  her  fellow-pupils,  Mile 
Permon,  the  future  duchesse  d'Abrantes. 

However,  Caroline  had  two  great  friends,  namely, 
L^ontine  de  Noailles,  whose  parents  had  both  been 
guillotined,  and  who  later  married  her  cousin,  Alfred 
de  Noailles;  and  Pauline  Raymond,  the  granddaughter 
of  M.  de  N^rac. 

Caroline,  the  most  headstrong  of  the  Bonapartes, 
and  the  particular  pet  of  her  famous  brother,  who  called 
her  "the  Cinderella  of  the  family,"  had  been  baptized 
Maria  Annunziata,  a  name  which  he,  for  some  reason, 
did  not  like,  so  he  changed  it  to  Caroline,  a  name 
equally  distasteful  to  Madame  Mere,  until  time  and 
associations  had  endeared  it  to  her. 

When  Mme  Bonaparte,  after  a  great  deal  of 
persuasion,  consented  to  join  her  husband  in  Italy  in 

197 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

June  1796,  she  left  Hortense  with  Maman  Campan, 
under  whose  care  the  child  made  such  progress  that 
her  stepfather,  on  his  return,  loudly  expressed  his 
satisfaction. 

While  General  Bonaparte  and  his  wife  were  away 
in  Italy,  Eugene  de  Beauharnais  and  Jerome  Bona- 
parte (who  was  also  at  the  College  des  Irlandais)  were 
allowed,  together  with  Hortense  and  Emilie  de 
Beauharnais,  to  go  up  to  Paris  on  two  or  three 
occasions,  when  as  a  great  treat  they  would  go  to  the 
play,  where,  as  pocket-money  was  none  too  plentiful, 
they  had  to  sit  **  in  Paradise,"  or  among  the  gods. 

Caroline  was  especially  lucky,  for  on  such  occasions 
her  uncle,  Joseph  Fesch,  always  invited  her  to  stay 
with  him  in  the  rue  du  Rocher.  Among  Maman 
Campan's  pupils  at  that  time  was  a  little  girl  named 
Lavinie  Rolier  (who  later  became  the  wife  of  General 
Lefebvre-Desnouettes),  the  daughter  of  a  lady  who 
had  once  been  engaged  to  the  uncle  of  Caroline,  the 
future  Cardinal  Fesch ;  this  child  and  Caroline  were 
great  friends. 

Eugene  de  Beauharnais  and  Jerome  Bonaparte 
were  sometimes  invited  to  spend  the  afternoon  with 
their  sisters,  for  Maman  Campan,  herself  an  exemplary 
sister,  was  always  anxious  to  instil  into  the  hearts  of 
her  pupils  the  value  of  family  affection.  Jerome  was 
a  very  ugly  boy  ;  but  he  must  have  been  good-natured, 
for  when  one  day  one  of  the  little  girls  pointed  her 
finger  at  him,  crying :  **  Oh !  how  ugly  you  are, 
Jdrome !  "  he  only  smiled.  Sometimes  Eugene  and 
Jerome  came,  accompanied  by  a  mysterious  boy  of 
about  twelve  years  of  age  whom  the  gammers  of 
Montagne   de    Bon-Air   declared   was  the  Dauphin, 

198 


A  MYSTERIOUS  SCHOOLFELLOW 

saved  from  the  Temple  by  Mme  Bonaparte.  How- 
ever, Naundorff,  the  Baron  von  Trenck  of  French 
history,  would  have  us  believe  that  certain  persons,  who 
had  tried  to  effect  the  rescue  of  Simon's  poor  little 
victim,  had  made  a  mistake  and  rescued  the  wrong 
child  ;  he  declares  that  when  Mme  Bonaparte  per- 
ceived the  mistake,  she  cried  to  the  child's  liberator  : — 

"  Unhappy  wretch !  what  have  you  done  ?  You 
have  committed  a  fatal  error — you  have  delivered  the 
son  of  Louis  xvi  into  the  hands  of  his  father's 
murderers ! " 

"The  unhappy  child,"  concludes  Naundorff,  **had 
therefore  been  saved  instead  of  me ;  /  was  still 
languishing  in  the  Temple." 

Be  this  as  it  may,  reports  to  the  effect  that  the 
Dauphin  had  been  rescued  from  the  Temple  by  the 
future  Empress  of  the  French  were  very  frequent 
about  this  time. 

The  opening  of  Mme  Campan's  seminary  at 
Montagne  de  Bon-Air  was  almost  immediately  fol- 
lowed by  the  appearance  of  several  similar  establish- 
ments in  and  outside  the  capital ;  but  as  none  of  their 
owners  could  boast  of  having  lived  at  the  Court  of 
Versailles  and  of  having  risked  their  lives  for  the  late 
queen,  they  were  less  successful  than  Mme  Campan, 
whereupon  they  found  fault  with  her  system  of  educa- 
tion, declaring  that  too  much  time  was  devoted  to  the 
acquirement  of  accomplishments  to  the  detriment  of 
more  serious  subjects.  Mme  Campan's  system  was 
inspired  by  Fdnelon's  Education  des  Filles,  which  book, 
published  in  1688,  was  the  result  of  a  very  delicate 
mission,  that  of  preaching  the  Catholic  faith  during  the 
space  of  ten  years  to  a  number  of  young  female  converts 

199 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

from  Protestantism  residing  in  an  establishment  called 
La  Maison  des  Nouvelles  Catkoliques,  and  obtained 
for  its  author  the  valuable  post  of  tutor  to  the  due  de 
Bourgogne,  whose  affection  he  soon  won. 

The  following  extracts  from  F^nelon's  work  show 
him  to  have  been  more  than  worthy  of  being  placed 
side  by  side  with  his  friend,  that  other  noble  church- 
man, Bossuet : — 

"  Nothing  has  been  so  neglected  as  the  education  of 
females.  Do  not  women  either  ruin  or  prove  a  blessing 
to  their  homes,  who  have  the  management  of  the  house- 
hold, and  who  therefore  have  to  decide  the  most  im- 
portant affairs  in  human  life  ?  The  world  is  but  one 
huge  family.  Virtue  belongs  to  women  as  much  as  to 
men  ;  without  speaking  of  the  good  or  evil  which  they 
^ay  do  to  the  world  in  general,  half  the  human  race  is 
formed  of  women  ;  they  were  bought  by  the  Blood  of 
Jesus  Christ  and  are  endowed  with  eternal  life." 

Fdnelon's  advice  to  a  lady  of  quality  who  had 
asked  whether  she  ought  to  send  her  only  daughter 
to  a  convent  or  educate  her  at  home  is  excellent : 
**  If  you  had  several  daughters,  you  might  find  your- 
self unable  to  do  your  duty  to  all  of  them,  in  which 
case  you  might  choose  a  good  convent  where  the 
pupils'  education  is  properly  attended  to ;  but  as  you 
only  have  one  daughter  to  bring  up,  and  as  God  has 
given  you  the  strength  to  take  care  of  her  yourself, 
I  think  that  you  can  give  her  a  better  education  than 
can  be  found  in  any  convent  whatsoever.  A  wise, 
tender,  Christian  mother  perceives  what  others  cannot 
see.  When  convent-bred  girls  leave  their  convents, 
they  are  like  people  who  have  been  kept  in  an  under- 
ground cave  and  have  been  suddenly  brought  into  the 

200 


A  PEARL  WITHOUT  PRICE 

light  of  day.  I  hold  the  education  received  at  good 
convents  in  high  esteem,  but  I  value  still  more  the 
education  given  by  a  virtuous  mother  when  she  is  free 
to  attend  to  it  herself.  ..." 

F^nelon  said  :  **  I  should  like  to  make  young  girls 
observe  the  simplicity  which  appears  in  statues  and ' 
other  representations  of  Greek  and  Roman  women  ; 
they  would  then  see  how  hair  loosely  knotted  at  the 
back  of  the  head  and  simple,  flowing  draperies 
become  the  wearer.  It  would  even  be  a  good  thing 
if  they  could  hear  painters  and  other  persons  who 
appreciate  the  exquisite  taste  of  yore  discourse  upon 
art." 

What  would  F^nelon  and  Mme  Campan  say  to 
the  ignorant,  loud-voiced,  big-footed,  heavy-handed, 
corsetless,  sexless  girl  of  to-day,  who  smokes,  plays 
hockey,  talks  of  her  "liberty,"  and  generally  apes  the 
ways  of  the  mere  man  whom  she  affects  to  despise  ? 

"Girls,"  says  Fdnelon,  "should  only  speak  when 
they  are  obliged  to  do  so,  and  then  they  should  speak 
with  a  hesitating,  deferential  air.  .  .  .  Teach  a  girl  to 
read  and  write  correctly.  It  is  shameful  but  common 
to  see  well-mannered  and  witty  women  unable  to 
pronounce  what  they  read,  or  else  they  stammer  or 
drone  in  a  singsong  tone ;  instead  of  which  they 
ought  to  pronounce  in  a  simple  and  natural  but 
steady,  even  voice.  They  are  still  more  behindhand 
as  to  spelling  and  writing.  They  should  also  know 
the  rudiments  of  arithmetic.  It  would  be  a  good 
thing  if  they  knew  something  concerning  the  principles 
of  law — for  instance,  the  difference  between  a  will  and 
a  dotation." 

Mme   Campan   was   evidently  influenced   in  her 

20I 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

method  of  education  by  the  above  work  ;  however,  we 
notice  the  following  remark,  of  which  she  certainly  did 
not  approve  : — 

"  I  do  not  recommend  music  and  painting,"  says 
the  Archbishop  of  Cambrai,  **  because  they  excite 
the  passions.  That  is  why  the  magistrates  of  Sparta 
destroyed  all  musical  instruments,  the  tones  of  which 
were  over-sweet,  and  why  Plato  severely  rejected  all 
the  delicious  chords  and  harmonies  with  which  Asiatic 
melodies  abound." 

And  then  the  good  man  ends  with  the  following 
beautiful  precept : — 

*'  Let  us  all  realize  that  we  here  below  are  like 
travellers  at  a  wayside  inn  or  resting  under  a  tent, 
that  the  body  must  die  and  that  we  can  only  postpone 
the  last  hour  of  dissolution  for  a  brief  space  of  time, 
but  that  the  soul  shall  soar  to  its  celestial  habitation, 
where  it  shall  live  for  ever  in  the  Life  of  God." 

Maman  Campan  composed  for  her  pupils  a  sort  of 
rhyming  Ten  Commandments,  which  one  and  all  had 
to  learn  by  heart ;  this  composition  was  called  : — 

"DU  BON  TON  DANS  LE  RANG  ELEv6  COMME  DANS  LA 
SOCI^TE  PRIV^E. 

"  De  la  dignite  sans  hauteur  ; 
De  la  politesse  sans  fadeur  ; 
De  la  confiance  sans  hardiesse ; 
Du  maintien  sans  raideur ; 
Des  graces  sans  affectation  ; 
De  la  reserve  sans  pruderie ; 
De  la  gaiete  sans  bruyants  eclats ; 
De  I'instruction  sans  pddanterie ; 
Des  talents  sans  pretention  ; 
De  I'envie  de  plaire  sans  coquetterie." 

It  is  true  that  a  great  deal  of  attention  was  paid  to 

202 


CITOYENNE  HORTENSE   BEAUHARNAIS 


the  art  of  conversation.  Mme  Campan  instituted 
causeries  in  her  own  private  room,  to  which  the  bigger 
girls  were  invited  and  in  which  they  were  expected  to 
take  part.  Sometimes  the  subject  chosen  was  a  fire, 
a  shipwreck,  a  picnic  spoiled  by  bad  weather,  or  the 
breaking-off  of  an  engagement.  The  pupils  were 
informed  that  on  no  account  should  such  subjects  as 
domestics  or  household  matters  be  discussed  in  a 
refined  lady's  drawing-room,  though  every  mistress 
ought  to  know  how  to  rule  her  household  and  avoid 
waste.  Politeness  was  highly  commended  because  it 
concealed  a  quantity  of  faults. 

The  following  document,  one  of  the  reports  which 
it  was  Maman  Campan's  custom  to  send  with  her 
pupils  when  they  returned  home  for  their  holidays, 
is  not  without  interest,  for  it  concerns  her  who  was  to 
become  the  mother  of  Napoleon  in  : — 

"The  National  Institution  of  Saint-Germain-en-Laye 
(under  the  direction  of  the  citoyenne  Campan). 

Saint-Germain-en-Laye,  8  ventdse^  an  vi. 

Mme  Campan  has  the  honour  to  send  the  citoyenne  Bonaparte  the 
following  extract  dated  i  germinal^  an  f/,  from  the  Institution  of  Saint- 
Germain-en-Laye. 

The  citoyenne  Hortense  Eugenie  Beauharnais,  4th  division,  8th 
section  (blue  riband),  composed  of  twenty-two  pupils. 


Number  of  fuarks. 

Number 

of  marks. 

Order,  cleanliness,  punctuality      3 

Application  and  obedience 

Reading  and  writing        .        .      9 

satisfactory 

Memory    not  sufficiently  cultivated 

Botany     . 

, 

satisfactory 

Arithmetic        ....      9 

Flower-drawing 

, 

.      4 

Dictation          .         .        .        .14 

Figure  and  landscape 

I 

History 14 

Elocution 

2 

Geography       ....      6 

Singing    . 

good 

Composition     .        .        .       faulty 

Harmony 

good 

Needlework     ....      3 

Piano 

good 

Dancing    .       ist  on  two  occasions 

Harp 

.      6 

Health     . 

delicate 

2( 

^3 

THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

^*  Remarks. 

The  citoyenne  Beauharnais  is  endowed  with  the  most  precious 
qualities  ;  she  is  kind-hearted,  sensible,  and  always  ready  to  oblige  her 
companions ;  she  seldom  loses  her  temper  ;  she  could  do  anything  if 
she  were  only  a  little  less  heedless.  She  spent  four  days  in  the 
infirmary  on  account  of  a  whitlow  on  the  thumb  of  her  left  hand. 
However,  she  is  less  greedy  and  continues  to  love  her  relations  with  all 
the  affection  and  admiration  of  which  they  are  so  thoroughly  worthy. 
Citoyenne  Cam  pan,  nde  Genest  (directress). 

Note. — As  the  lessons  do  not  recommence  before  the  end  of 
messidor^  no  account  of  the  studies  and  compositions  of  next  brumaire 
will  be  rendered." 

It  will  be  observed  in  the  above  report  that, 
although  the  Montagne  de  Bon-Air  has  given  place 
to  the  original  Saint-Germain-en- Laye,  so  odious  to 
the  terrorists  as  an  echo  of  former  "superstitions,"  the 
de  is  still  omitted  before  the  name  of  de  Beauharnais, 
while  Mme  Campan,  her  pupil,  and  that  pupil's 
mother,  are  still  styled  citoyennes.  But  many  of  the 
old  institutions  and  titles,  like  the  dmigrds,  were 
beginning  to  turn  up  again. 

When  the  clergy  were  once  more  allowed  to 
officiate  in  public,  Mme  Campan  was  one  of  the  first 
teachers  to  beg  a  priest  ^  to  come  and  care  for  the 
young  souls  in  her  charge  ;  she  later  presented  the 
parish  church  of  Saint-Germain  with  vestments  and 
ornaments  to  replace  those  stolen  during  the  Reign 
of  Terror,  on  which  occasion  there  was  a  grand  con- 
firmation and  many  of  her  pupils  made  their  First 
Communion. 

Mme  Campan  wisely  engaged  the  best  teachers 
money  could  obtain  :  Grasset  taught  the  violin ; 
Isabey,    painting ;    Langl^    singing ;    whereas   there 

^  The  name  of  her  chaplain  was  M.  Bertrand  ;  he  later  became  tutor 
to  Hortense's  sons. 

204 


MARRIAGE  OF  PAULINE  BONAPARTE 

were  two  masters,  L^ger  and  Thi^non,  to  give 
instruction  In  drawing,  there  was  only  one  to  teach 
geography,  which  fact  gave  rise  to  the  report  that 
Mme  Campan  paid  far  too  much  attention  to 
accomplishments. 

In  the  summer  of  1797,  Caroline  Bonaparte  left 
the  seminary  at  Saint-Germain  in  order  to  be  present 
at  the  marriage  of  her  sister  Pauline  with  General 
Leclerc,  which  was  celebrated  at  Montebello,  in  Italy, 
where  General  Bonaparte  was  resting  after  that 
brilliantly  successful  Italian  campaign.  On  this 
occasion  the  dashing  Murat,  who  was  always  trying 
to  "better  himself,"  formed  a  plan  for  marrying  his 
general's  favourite  sister,  at  that  time  a  lively,  pretty 
girl,  less  handsome  than  Pauline,  perhaps,  but  very 
fascinating.  Mme  Bonaparte  noticed  that  Murat  had 
seemed  much  taken  by  the  Cinderella  of  the  family  ; 
as  for  the  latter,  before  many  months  had  passed,  she 
had  quite  lost  her  heart  to  the  stalwart  Southerner. 

Caroline's  beauty  had  already  attracted  Moreau, 
Augereau,  and  Lannes  ;  however,  as  the  latter  had 
just  been  obliged  to  divorce  his  wife,  he  did  not  count, 
for  the  Napoleon  of  those  days  considered  divorce  a 
very  unnecessary  evil.     Lannes  had  a  lucky  escape. 

As  time  went  on  and  Murat  said  nothing,  Mme 
Bonaparte  was  kind  enough  to  hint  that  an  offer  of 
marriage  in  a  certain  quarter  would  be  favourably 
received.  But  Murat  was  a  cautious  man  and  so  he 
preferred  to  wait  a  little. 

During  Mme  Bonaparte's  absence  in  Italy, 
Hortense  paid  a  visit  to  her  paternal  grandfather, 
the  vice-admiral  marquis  de  Beauharnais,  formerly 
Governor  of  the  Windward  Islands,  on  which  occasion 

205 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

Mme   Campan    thought   it    necessary   to    send    the 
following  letter  of  advice  : — 

^^  21  frimatre,  an  vi  (December  ii,  1797). 

"  I  do  not  know,  my  dear  Hortense,  if  your  Mama 
has  returned,  and  if  you  have  already  been  able  to 
clasp  in  your  arms  that  beloved  mother  and  Eugene, 
whom  you  love  so  dearly.  If  I  had  thought  that  I 
could  have  possibly  met  the  general  (Bonaparte), 
I  would  have  journeyed  up  to  Paris  in  order  to  see 
the  hero  of  France ;  but  it  was  very  difficult  for  me  to 
get  away. 

"  Be  sure  to  have  a  piano  and  Mozin,^  I  beg  of 
you,  and  to  draw  diligently.  Do  not  forget,  my  dear 
Hortense,  that  you  have  lost  time  and  that  you  have 
only  two  or  three  years  left  to  devote  to  the  most 
interesting  thing  in  your  life — your  education.  M. 
Bertrand  is  now  giving  his  geography  lesson ;  he 
greatly  regrets  his  dear  Hortense,  who  was  making  so 
much  progress  ;  it  is  the  same  with  all  the  professors. 
The  ball  was  extremely  melancholy.  Adele  *  is  like  a 
shepherd  who  has  lost  his  shepherdess  and  will  no 
longer  dance  with  the  other  village-maidens. 

"  Give  my  respects  to  your  grandparents.  Aimde 
Leclerc  ®  has  an  angelic  disposition ;  she  makes 
progress  every  day ;  I  am  really  vastly  pleased  with 
her.  .  .  .  The  piano,  my  dear  friend,  the  piano  and 
M.  Mozin,  or  you  will  have  nothing  to  play  when  your 
Mama  returns.  Write  to  me,  my  dear  Hortense,  and 
love  me  as  I  love  you,  for  I  am  yours  for  ever." 

The  allusion  to  a  ball  is  explained  by  the  fact  that 

^  A  teacher  of  the  pianoforte.        ^  AdMe  Auguid,  Mme  Campan's  niece. 
^  A  fellow-pupil  of  Hortense  and  later  the  wife  of  Marshal  Davout 

206 


EMILIE  DE  BEAUHARNAIS 

Mme  Campan  prized  the  art  of  dancing  so  highly  that 
she  paid  a  dancing-master  to  come  down  from  Paris 
every  Sunday  and  teach  the  young  ladies  the  stately 
minuet  which  she  had  seen  danced  in  her  youth  at  the 
Court  of  Marie  Antoinette. 

Hortense  and  her  cousin,  Emilie  de  Beauharnais, 
were  both  very  pretty  girls ;  Hortense  with  her  blue 
eyes,  graceful  shape,  and  her  golden  hair,  which  she 
then  wore  in  two  great  plaits  hanging  down  her  back, 
began  to  win  hearts  at  a  very  early  age.  Unfortu- 
nately she,  like  her  mother,  had  rather  long  and 
prominent  teeth  which  soon  decayed. 

Josephine- Emilie- Louise  de  Beauharnais,  her 
cousin,  was  born  under  an  unlucky  star,  notwith- 
standing her  beauty,  which  was  uncommon,  and  caused 
Louis  Bonaparte,  who  paid  frequent  visits  to  his  sister 
Caroline  on  Emilie's  account,  to  say  of  her  when  both 
had  left  their  youth  behind  them  : — 

**  She  was  the  most  beautiful  creature  I  ever  saw  !  " 

Emilie  first  beheld  the  light  of  day  in  1780;  her 
mother,  the  daughter  of  the  poetess,  Mme  Fanny  de 
Beauharnais,  never  cared  for  her  and  in  fact  treated 
the  little  thing  with  extreme  severity,  often  punishing 
her  most  cruelly  for  some  childish  fault.  During  the 
Reign  of  Terror,  Mme  de  Beauharnais  was  arrested 
at  Champy,  and  imprisoned  at  Sainte-Pdagie,  when 
she  obtained  a  divorce  from  her  emigrant  husband  in 
order  to  save  her  head  and  her  fortune,  a  step  not 
infrequently  taken  by  husbands  and  wives  anxious  to 
cut  the  marriage-bond.  While  Mme  de  Beauharnais 
was  in  prison,  her  little  daughter  wrote  petition  after 
petition  to  the  Convention  and  the  Comitd  de  Salut 
public  begging  them  to  liberate  the  mother  whom  she 

207 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

loved  so  passionately,  but  who  cared  absolutely  nothing 
for  her.  When  released,  Mme  de  Beauharnais  re- 
turned to  her  former  house  in  the  Chaussee  d'Antin, 
which  had  been  confiscated  by  the  nation,  and  where 
she,  a  Lazarus  where  she  had  once  been  Dives,  was 
now  permitted  to  inhabit  a  small  dwelling,  the  upper 
floors  being  occupied  by  a  very  rich  and  generous 
Spanish  banker  with  his  three  little  daughters,  one  of 
whom,  Flavie  by  name,  we  have  already  met.  Now 
Emilie  de  Beauharnais  had  a  very  strict  governess. 
Mile  Coquille,  whose  rule  was  no  less  severe  than  that 
of  the  child's  mother  ;  this  woman  forced  Emilie  to  eat 
food  which  she  hated,  and,  when  she  revolted,  made 
her  live  upon  dry  bread.  Emilie,  although  watched 
so  carefully,  contrived  to  make  friends  with  the  three 
little  Spaniards,  who  baptized  the  termagant  **  Mile 
Coquine,"  and  hated  her  as  much  as  her  pupil  did. 

The  banker,  loath  to  send  his  little  daughters  to 
a  big  school,  begged  Mme  Campan  to  allow  them  to 
stay  with  her  at  Coubertin.  So  well  and  happy  were 
they  with  her  that,  when  the  late  queen's  waiting- 
woman  opened  her  seminary  at  Montagne  de  Bon-Air, 
he  not  only  entrusted  his  three  daughters  to  her  charge, 
but  he  also  persuaded  the  mothers  of  Hortense  and 
Emilie  to  send  their  daughters  thither.  Now  the 
sister-in-law  of  the  future  Mme  Bonaparte  was 
thinking  of  marrying  again,  and  so,  as  she  found  little 
Emilie  in  the  way,  she  gladly  gave  her  to  Mme 
Campan  to  be  educated  when  she  heard  the  banker 
speak  thus  of  his  children's  governess  : — 

"You   wish  your  daughter  to  be  well  educated; 
send  her  and  your  niece  to  Mme  Campan.     Even  if 
you  wanted  them  to  become  princesses,  you  could  not 

208 


\rj,  l\i  I  .\ 


Emilie  de  Beauharnals, 

COMTESSE    DE    LaVALETTE. 


•'re 


EMILIE  DE  BEAUHARNAIS 

do  better.  Who,  better  than  Mme  Campan,  could 
accomplish  such  a  feat  ?  " 

It  was  a  sad  little  Emilie  who  left  home  to  nestle 
under  the  wing  of  kind  Maman  Campan  ;  there  was 
not  much  love  lost  between  Hortense  and  Emilie,  but 
Mme  Campan  tried  hard  to  make  the  little  Emilie's 
life  brighter,  and  well  did  she  succeed.  There  was 
a  strange  facial  resemblance  between  Eugene  de 
Beauharnais  and  his  cousin,  Emilie,  which  often 
aroused  Hortense's  hilarity ;  history  shows  that  this 
resemblance  extended  to  their  characters. 

General  Bonaparte  was  already  making  ambitious 
plans  for  his  relatives. 

M.  Joseph  Turquan  rightly  remarks  :  ''  There  was 
not  one  of  his  relatives  or  connections  by  marriage, 
both  on  his  own  side  and  on  his  wife's  side,  who  did 
not  have  cause  to  be  grateful  to  him ;  and  it  is  only 
just  to  observe  that  he  did  not  wait  to  help  them  until 
he  was  asked  to  do  so." 

At  the  age  of  seventeen,  Mile  Emilie  had  many 
admirers,  but  no  prospect  of  finding  a  husband — did 
not  General  Bonaparte  say  of  her  : — 

**  As  the  daughter  of  an  dmigrd,  nobody  wants  her  ; 
my  wife  cannot  take  her  into  society.  The  poor 
child  is  worthy  of  a  better  fate  "  ? 

And  the  kind-hearted  fellow  set  about  finding  a 
husband  for  the  girl  whom  nobody  had  wanted  when 
she  was  a  child.  Emilie  had  developed  into  a  very 
pretty  girl ;  she  had  a  sweet  disposition,  and  Mme 
Campan  had  given  her  a  good  education. 

General  Bonaparte  soon  found  somebody  who 
he  thought  would  make  a  good  husband  for  Emilie. 
Before  starting  for  Egypt,  he  paid  a  visit  to  Mme 
o  209 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

Campan's  establishment.  Mile  Emilie  was  summoned 
to  the  latter's  sanctum ;  with  a  beating  heart  she 
listened  to  General  Bonaparte. 

**  I  have  come,"  said  he,  unfolding  his  plan,  "  to 
offer  you  a  gallant  fellow,  a  brave  man  belonging  to 
my  army,  Lavalette  by  name." 

Emilie's  consternation  on  hearing  that  she  was 
expected  to  marry  a  man  whom  she  had  only  seen 
twice  and  whose  appearance  was  the  reverse  of 
romantic,  deprived  her  of  the  power  of  protesting. 
The  rosy  daydreams  faded  away  into  the  ugly  grey 
light  of  reality.  How  could  she  promise  to  love  and 
be  faithful  to  a  man  who  was  still  almost  a  stranger  ? 
Surely  General  Bonaparte's  experience  must  have 
taught  him  that  love  cannot  be  bought  and  sold  in 
this  manner  ? 

In  after  years,  before  Emilie's  mind  had  sunk 
under  its  burden  of  anguish,  she  said  concerning  her 
own  child  : — 

*'  If  I  can  still  influence  my  daughter's  fate,  never, 
never  shall  she  know  what  it  means  to  marry  some- 
body when  one  has  already  bestowed  one's  affections 
upon  another  person.  As  for  me,  I  was  enabled  to 
master  my  feelings,  and  I  learnt  to  suffer  long  ago  ; 
but  this  would  be  my  child's  first  sorrow — would  she 
be  as  courageous  as  I  was  ?  " 

Grief  and  astonishment  prevented  Emilie  telling 
the  general  the  truth ;  but,  indeed,  how  could  she 
have  confessed  to  the  brother  of  Louis  Bonaparte 
that,  during  the  latter's  visits  to  Caroline,  she  had 
formed  an  attachment  for  the  future  king  of  Holland 
which  she  had  every  reason  to  believe  was  returned  ? 
General  Bonaparte,  taking  Emilie's  silence  for  consent, 

2IO 


GENERAL  LAVALETTE 

left  Saint-Germain  convinced  that  he  was  acting  as 
the  girl's  guardian  angel.  Perhaps  he  was  less  certain 
of  success  with  "  the  gallant  fellow." 

Mme  Junot  paints  the  following  portrait  of 
Lavalette  in  her  memoirs  • — 

*'  As  for  Lavalette,  he  was  extremely  ugly,  bdti  en 
Bacchus,  short-legged,  stumpy  ;  he  had  a  comical  face 
with  small  eyes  and  a  nose  hardly  bigger  than  a  pea, 
but  he  was  very  witty  and  a  charming  talker." 

On  the  morrow  General  Bonaparte  took  Lavalette 
to  the  Treasury,  where  he  had  to  give  orders  that 
certain  sums  of  money  should  be  sent  to  Toulon  in 
preparation  for  his  departure  for  Egypt ;  this  done, 
he  told  the  coachman  to  drive  along  the  boulevards  as 
he  wanted  to  talk  to  Lavalette  at  his  leisure. 

General  Bonaparte  lost  no  time  beating  about  the 
bush,  but  opened  fire  at  once  : — 

**  I  cannot  make  you  commander  of  a  squadron,  so 
I  must  find  you  a  wife.  I  want  you  to  marry  Emilie 
de  Beauharnais ;  she  is  very  beautiful,  and  well 
educated." 

Lavalette,  no  less  taken  aback  at  this  news  than 
Emilie  had  been,  and  not  a  little  annoyed — for  rumour 
said  that  he  was  engaged  in  a  liaison  about  that  time 
— protested  : 

"  But,  General,  I  have  only  seen  her  twice  in  my 
life.  I  am  penniless,  and  we  are  soon  going  to  Egypt, 
where  it  is  quite  possible  that  I  may  be  killed,  and 
then  what  would  become  of  my  poor  widow  ?  .  .  . 
Besides,  I  have  no  wish  to  marry." 

Now  other  people's  wishes  were  always  a  secondary 
consideration  with  Napoleon. 

•*Tut!    tut!"  quoth  he,   "people   must   marry  to 

211 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

have  children  ;  that  is  the  great  aim  in  life.  If  you  are 
killed — which  is  possible — she  will  be  the  widow  of 
one  of  my  aides-de-camp,  of  a  defender  of  the  father- 
land ;  she  will  have  a  pension  and  be  able  to  establish 
herself  advantageously.  Now  as  the  daughter  of  an 
^migrd  nobody  wants  her.  ...  The  matter  must  be 
promptly  settled.  Go  and  talk  to  Mme  Bonaparte 
this  evening ;  her  mother  has  already  given  her 
consent.  The  marriage  shall  take  place  in  a  week's 
time,  and  I  will  give  you  a  fortnight  in  which  to  be 
happy.     You  shall  join  me  at  Toulon  on  the  29th." 

Lavalette  was  not  surprised  to  hear  that  Mme 
Bonaparte  took  a  personal  interest  in  Emilie's  future  ; 
he  knew  that  Hortense's  mother  did  not  wish  Louis 
Bonaparte  to  marry  the  pretty  Emilie  ;  but  he  could 
not  help  laughing  while  his  general  was  laying  down 
the  law  in  this  rather  disconcerting  fashion. 

"  Oh !  well,"  said  he,  "I  will  do  as  you  wish — but 
will  the  young  lady  accept  me?  I  don't  want  to 
force  her  to  marry  me." 

To  which  remark.  General  Bonaparte  replied  : — 

**  She  is  still  scarcely  more  than  a  child ;  she 
begins  to  find  school  dull,  but  she  would  be  miserable 
in  her  mother's  house.  During  your  absence,  she 
shall  go  to  her  grandfather  at  Fontainebleau.  You 
will  not  be  killed,  and  you  will  come  back  to  her  in 
two  years'  time.     There  !  the  whole  affair  is  settled  !  " 

The  meeting  between  Lavalette  and  Emilie  de 
Beauharnais,  the  child  whom  nobody  wanted,  must 
have  been  painful  to  both  parties.  Lavalette  after- 
wards confided  to  Mme  Campan  that  Emilie  was  the 
prettiest  girl  of  the  forty  pupils  present ;  she  received 
her   fiance's   attentions  with    docility,  and   gave   her 

212 


A  MARRIAGE  UNDER  THE  DIRECTOIRE 

consent  to  the  marriage  in  a  sweet,  low  voice,  though 
Maman  Campan  saw  tears  glimmering  beneath  the 
long  lashes  of  the  eyes  which  had  wept  so  often  when 
she  first  came  to  shelter  under  her  second  mother's 
wing.  There  is  little  cause  to  believe  the  assertion 
contained  in  the  Mdmoires  cCune  Inconnue  to  the 
effect  that  Emilie  declared  she  would  never  live  with 
her  husband.  At  her  request  the  wedding,  which  took 
place  a  week  later  at  the  mairie  of  the  ist  arrondisse- 
ment  of  Paris,  3  flordal,  an  f/,  was  attended  only  by 
near  relatives  and  her  kind  schoolmistress.  Shortly 
before  the  wedding  she  had  come  up  to  stay  with  her 
mother  at  no.  70,  rue  des  Mathurins,  from  whose  house 
on  the  morrow  the  young  couple  proceeded  to  the 
convent  of  the  Conception,  in  the  rue  Saint- Honor^ 
where  an  outlawed  priest  blessed  the  marriage. 
Lavalette  had  given  his  consent  to  this  ceremony 
because  the  good  creature  was  anxious  to  please  his 
young  wife. 

"  How  grateful  I  felt  for  this  consolation,"  wrote 
Emilie,  long  afterwards,  "and  how  fervently  I  prayed 
Heaven  to  grant  me  the  strength  to  conquer  myself, 
and  not  to  make  him  unhappy." 

At  the  end  of  a  fortnight  Emilie  discovered  that 
she  had  actually  fallen  in  love  with  her  plain  husband  ; 
as  for  him,  he  was,  or  ought  to  have  been,  the  happiest 
husband  in  France. 

When  Lavalette  started  to  join  his  general  at 
Toulon,  Emilie  went,  notwithstanding  the  prayers  of 
her  different  relations,  who,  now  that  she  was  some- 
body, discovered  they  were  very  fond  of  her,  to  re- 
side with  her  grandfather  at  Fontainebleau,  as  General 
Bonaparte  had  promised  her  husband  she  should  do. 

213 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

The  Armde  cC Egypte  had  scarcely  reached  Malta 
when  Lavalette  learnt  that  his  bride  had  fallen 
ill  of  small-pox.  Vaccination  not  being  included  in 
Mme  Campan's  terms,  poor  Emilies  complexion 
suffered  somewhat.  In  later  years  Mme  Cam  pan  was 
blamed  for  many  of  her  pupils'  faults,  and  even  for  the 
fact  that  she  had  not  turned  ugly  misses  into  belles, 
or  enabled  the  latter  to  keep  their  good  looks. 
"  But,"  says  she  in  self-defence,  "  I  never  announced 
in  my  prospectuses  that  my  system  of  education  could 
prevent  pretty  faces  being  spoiled  by  the  ravages  of 
time." 

However,  Mme  d'Abrantes  assures  us  that 
"  Emilie  was  still  far  too  pretty  to  suit  some  people. 
The  illness  had  not  injured  her  fine  teeth  or  her 
splendid  figure ;  indeed,  she  recovered  nearly  all  her 
good  looks  after  a  time." 

When  she  was  well  again,  Mme  Lavalette  had 
her  miniature  painted  for  her  husband ;  Lavalette 
never  received  it,  however,  for  it  was  intercepted  by 
the  English. 


214 


CHAPTER  XI 

A  prize-giving  at  Mme  Campan's  establishment — The  First  Consul 
assists  at  a  performance  of  Esther— The,  prince  of  Orange  creates 
a  sensation  by  his  behaviour — Marriage  of  Caroline  Bonaparte  to 
Murat — Hortense  goes  to  dwell  at  the  Tuileries— Mme  Campan 
nearly  incurs  the  First  Consul's  displeasure — Charlotte  Bonaparte 
comes  to  Saint-Germain. 

In  a  letter  written  by  Mme  Campan  to  Hortense, 
who  was  staying  at  Plombieres  for  the  benefit  of 
Mme  Bonaparte's  health,  we  find  an  amusing  account 
of  a  prize-giving  at  Saint-Germain : — 

''July  24, 1798. 
"It  was  the  most  brilliant  day  in  the  history  of  my 
establishment,  my  dear  Hortense.  How  you  were 
missed !  But  when  Isabey  publicly  announced  that 
you  had  won  the  first  prize  for  drawing,  the  applause 
and  delight  of  your  fellow-pupils  were  the  most 
sincere  praise  my  amiable  Hortense  could  have  ob- 
tained. Your  dear  grandmamma  vastly  enjoyed  the 
spectacle ;  the  prize  was  confided  to  her  care.  The 
assembly  was  one  of  the  largest  ever  seen  at  Saint- 
Germain  ;  the  illuminated  courtyard,  the  tent,  etc., 
etc.,  made  it  look  exactly  like  Tivoli ;  and  the  belles 
who  flock  in  such  numbers  to  that  place  of  amuse- 
ment, were  so  gracious  as  to  adorn  the  entertainment 
with  their  charms  ;  for  the  magnificent  Mme  R^camier, 
Mme  Pauligni,  and  Mme  Lavalette,  the  latter  charm- 
ing and  attired  like  an  angel,  were  seen  strolling  up 

215 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

and  down  the  lawn  ;  finally,  as  many  as  thirty  equi- 
pages were  counted  in  my  street.  But  what  was 
better  than  all,  was  the  general  satisfaction  expressed 
at  the  education  of  my  young  people.  Adele  (Augui6) 
was  charming ;  she  unfortunately  became  rather 
frightened  while  playing  her  sonata,  and  the  eyes  of 
Mme  Gueffre  (the  pianoforte  professor)  only  made 
matters  worse.  ...  In  short,  my  dear  friend,  I  fully 
enjoyed  the  fruits  of  my  labours,  for  all  Paris  praised 
my  establishment." 

We  can  imagine  the  stern  Mme  Gueffre — for  any- 
body with  such  a  name  must  have  been  so — glaring 
at  poor  Adele  from  the  end  of  the  pianoforte,  and 
making  her  play  wrong  notes  at  every  turn. 

The  year  1799  saw  Mme  Campan's  establishment 
literally  besieged  by  would-be  pupils,  coming  from  all 
quarters  of  the  globe,  even  from  Martinique  and 
Calcuta,  as  she  calls  it.  Years  afterwards,  Maman 
Campan  used  to  say  with  pride : — 

"  I  found  myself  governess  to  a  nestful  of  princesses, 
though  I  was  unaware  of  the  fact.  I  confess  that  it 
was  a  very  good  thing  for  all  parties  that  we  did  not 
know  it.  Perhaps  if  they  had  been  educated  as 
princesses,  flattery  would  have  ruined  their  characters  ; 
whereas  they,  being  brought  up  with  all  the  other 
boarders,  were  given  a  refined  education  which  fitted 
them  to  become  good  wives  and  mothers.  ..." 

Her  success  was  partly  due  to  the  fact  that  the 
First  Consul  openly  favoured  her,  and  frequently  in- 
vited her  to  La  Malmaison  after  his  return  from  Egypt. 

On  one  occasion  when  Mme  Campan  was  dining 
there,  the  First  Consul  admired  a  handsome  snuff-box 

216 


MADAME  CAMP  AN  AS  FIRST  CONSUL 

which  the  late  queen's  waiting-woman  always  carried 
in  her  pocket,  and  asked  to  be  allowed  to  examine  it. 
On  finding  that  it  was  ornamented  with  a  portrait  of 
Marie  Antoinette,  the  First  Consul  was  silent  for  a 
minute,  and  then  returned  it  to  its  owner  with  this 
remark : — 

"You  are  quite  right  to  keep  this  portrait.  I  do 
not  like  ungrateful  people.  It  is  perfectly  natural 
that  you  should  wish  to  keep  the  picture  of  that 
charming  woman.  They  wanted  to  compass  her  ruin 
in  1793;  whom  would  they  not  have  ruined?  Her 
birth  and  titles  exasperated  them ;  their  hatred  was 
akin  to  a  mania.  You  would  have  died  for  her,  I  am 
sure,  as  you  will  die  with  her  portrait  by  your  side  ! " 

Again,  he  gave  her  the  highest  praise  he  could 
give  her  when  he  said  that  if  he  was  ever  tempted  to 
form  a  Republic  of  females,  he  would  appoint  her 
First  Consul ! 

But  the  First  Consul's  favour  caused  many  of  the 
returned  dmigrds  to  look  upon  Mme  Campan  with 
disfavour.  Luckily  she  had  some  valuable  partisans 
in  the  marquise  de  Tourzel,  the  duchesse  de  Luynes, 
the  mar^chale  de  Beauvau,  the  princesses  de  Poix 
and  d'H^nin,  the  due  de  Choiseul,  the  marquis  de 
Lally,  and  her  first  mistresses,  Mesdames,  who  always 
said  they  were  sure  Mme  Campan  would  bring  up 
her  pupils  to  love  and  revere  the  late  king  and  queen. 

On  two  occasions  the  First  Consul  visited  the 
seminary  at  Saint-Germain,  and  was  so  good-natured 
as  to  sit  through  some  of  those  terrible  inflictions, 
amateur  theatricals,  when  Mme  Campan's  pupils  per- 
formed the  time-honoured  tragedy  of  Esther,  the 
title-r61e  being  played  by  the  future  queen  of  Holland, 

217 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

and  that  of  Elise  being  taken  by  her  great  friend, 
Adele  Auguid  The  hall  was  full  of  the  First  Consul's 
suite,  Ministers,  captains,  and  other  imposing  persons. 
There  was  also  present  no  less  a  personage  than  the 
prince  of  Orange,^  who  had  come  to  France  in  order 
to  interest  the  First  Consul  in  his  cause ;  but  the 
latter  was  still  too  good  a  Republican  to  forgive  the 
prince  for  his  conduct  during  the  wars  of  that 
Republic.  So,  although  he  was  well  aware  that  the 
young  man  was  in  the  hall,  the  First  Consul  purposely 
ignored  his  presence,  until  an  unforeseen  incident 
brought  forth  one  of  those  crushing  remarks  with 
which  Napoleon  was  wont  to  silence  importunate 
persons. 

Mme  Campan's  young  ladies  had  just  begun  the 
famous  chorus,  in  which  the  Israelitish  maidens  voice 
their  rapture  at  returning  to  their  native  land,  and 
with  which  the  third  act  of  Esther  closes : — 

"Je  reverrai  ces  campagnes  si  chores, 
J'irai  pleurer  au  tombeau  de  mes  p^res." 

Suddenly  the   music  was  interrupted    by  the  sound 

^  William  Frederick^  prince  of  Orange  and  Nassau  (i 772-1 843),  later 
king  of  the  Netherlands.  After  studying  at  Leyden  and  travelling  for  a 
few  years,  he  entered  upon  a  military  career  in  which  he  distinguished 
himself  by  his  courageous  but  unsuccessful  opposition  against  the 
French  (1793-94).  Napoleon  deprived  him  of  his  possessions  in 
Germany  for  having  refused  to  join  the  Confederation  of  the  Rhine  in 
1806.  He  fought  most  bravely  at  Wagram  and  Jena.  On  returning  to 
his  native  land  in  1813  he  took  the  title  of  sovereign-prince,  and  in  1815 
the  allies  gave  him  the  title  of  king  of  the  Netherlands,  when  he  became 
ruler  over  Belgium  as  well  as  Holland.  He  was  unable  to  prevent 
Belgium  being  wrested  from  his  grasp  by  the  French  Revolution  of 
1830.  His  marriage  to  a  Belgian  lady,  the  comtesse  d'Oultremont, 
belonging  to  the  Catholic  faith,  and  other  unpopular  actions  forced  him 
to  abdicate  in  1840,  when  he  went  to  reside  in  Berlin,  where  he  died 
three  years  later. 

2l8 


AMATEUR  THEATRICALS 

of  loud  sobbing  at  the  back  of  the  hall.  The  First 
Consul,  who  was  seated  in  a  red  velvet  arm-chair  in 
the  place  of  honour  in  the  front  row,  turned  round  to 
Mme  Campan,  who  was  immediately  behind  him,  and 
asked  what  was  the  matter.  That  lady,  thinking  to 
further  the  exile's  cause,  replied : — 

"  The  prince  of  Orange  is  present ;  the  verses 
which  have  just  been  sung  reminded  him  very  pain- 
fully of  his  own  case  and  his  own  griefs,  and  he  was 
unable  to  restrain  his  tears." 

To  which  piece  of  information  the  First  Consul, 
comfortably  settling  himself  again  in  his  arm-chair, 
remarked  in  a  cool  tone : — 

"  Oh  !  is  that  all  ?  I  really  need  not  have  turned 
round  in  my  chair  for  such  a  small  matter." 

Mme  Campan  was  very  fond  of  writing  plays  for 
her  pupils  to  act ;  on  such  occasions  Hortense  always 
shone  by  her  singing  and  dancing.  Among  the  pieces 
in  which  the  future  queen  of  Holland  appeared  were  : 
La  Famille  Dawenport,  La  nouvelle  Lucile,  La  Vieille 
de  la  Cabane ;  one  of  her  governess's  most  success- 
ful plays  was  Cd cilia ^  on  la  Pension  de  Londres.  Mme 
Campan  showed  her  esteem  for  English  people  by 
giving  many  of  her  characters  English  names,  such  as  : 
Milady  Dawen,  la  mere  Dawson,  Mistress  Teachum, 
Lady  Hamilton,  Lady  Arabella  Richard,  Mrs.  Whit- 
field, Lady  Goldenall,  Lady  Lindsey,  Mrs.  Morton, 
Peggy,  Betty,  Sally,  etc.  etc. 

The  young  ladies  of  Saint-Germain  had  other 
pleasures  besides  private  theatricals ;  in  the  winter 
there  were  dances,  and  in  summer  picnics  in  the  beauti- 
ful forest,  and  visits  to  the  poor  of  the  neighbourhood, 
when  any  pupil  who  had  been  particularly  industrious 

219 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

during  the  week  was  allowed  to  go  and  distribute  alms. 
It  was  the  pupils'  custom  to  collect  a  purse  of  money 
and  present  it  to  Maman  Campan  on  her  birthday  ;  this 
money  she  always  gave  to  the  clergy  for  the  poor  of 
Saint-Germain  ;  during  her  years  of  success,  the  sum 
frequently  amounted  to  more  than  a  thousand  francs. 

We  have  already  mentioned  the  fact  that  Murat 
was  a  cautious  man.  General  Bonapartes  recent 
successes  had  shown  many  people,  including  Murat, 
that  he  was  the  coming  ruler  of  France.  Towards  the 
end  of  1799,  Murat,  remembering  Mme  Bonaparte's 
hint,  went  to  see  M.  Collot,  and  told  him  that  he  had 
formed  an  attachment  for  the  First  Consul's  youngest 
sister,  and  that  he  had  reason  to  believe  that  he  was 
not  indifferent  to  her.  M.  Collot  recommended  Murat 
to  go  straight  to  the  First  Consul  and  make  a  formal 
proposal  for  Caroline's  hand. 

Did  Napoleon  read  Murat's  character  aright  when 
he  at  first  refused  to  give  his  favourite  to  his  aide-de- 
camp ?  But  Josephine  was  determined  to  have  her  own 
way  ;  she  persuaded  the  First  Consul  to  hold  a  family 
council  one  evening  after  dinner  at  the  Petit  Luxem- 
bourg, the  result  of  which  was  that  Napoleon  was 
driven  into  a  corner,  and  obliged  to  give  in  to  his 
wife's  wishes.  To  hide  the  fact  that  he  had  allowed 
himself  to  be  influenced  by  a  woman,  he  said  : — 

*'  All  things  considered,  Murat  suits  my  sister ; 
no  one  will  be  able  to  say  that  I  am  proud,  or  that  I 
am  anxious  to  marry  my  family  to  grand  folk.  If  I 
had  given  my  sister  in  marriage  to  a  noble,  all  your 
Jacobins  would  have  screamed  that  I  was  a  counter- 
revolutionist.  And  then  I  am  very  glad  that  my  wife 
has  taken  such  an  interest  in  the  marriage.  ..." 

220 


CAROLINE  MARRIES  MURAT 

When  all  was  settled,  the  First  Consul  paid  a  visit 
to  Caroline's  former  governess  ;  after  informing  her  of 
his  sister's  approaching  marriage,  he  remarked  : — 

**  I  don't  approve  of  marriages  between  children 
who  don't  know  their  own  mind ;  their  excitable  little 
brains  are  influenced  by  their  volcanic  imaginations. 
I  had  other  plans  for  Caroline — who  knows  what  a 
grand  alliance  I  might  have  arranged  for  her  ?  She  is 
a  giddy-brained  creature,  and  does  not  understand  my 
position.  Perhaps  a  time  might  have  come  when 
sovereigns  would  have  fought  for  her  hand  ?  She  is 
marrying  a  brave  fellow  ;  but  that  is  not  sufficient  for 
me  in  my  present  position.  However,  we  must  let 
Fate  lead  us  where  she  will." 

Caroline  was  eighteen  and  Murat  thirty-three  at 
the  time  of  their  marriage,  which  took  place  on 
January  20,  1800,  at  Plailly,  near  Morfontaine. 

After  the  excesses  of  the  Revolution,  as  after  the 
Franco- Prussian  War,  many  marriages  were  celebrated 
in  France,  3315  being  performed  during  the  year  viii 
of  the  Republic,  while  3842  were  celebrated  in  the 
following  year,  and — what  was  far  more  important 
to  the  home  life  of  the  nations  —  divorces  became 
fewer. 

The  First  Consul  gave  his  little  sister  a  dowry  of 
30,000  francs,  a  diamond  necklace  belonging  to  his  wife 
— a  mean  gift — and  a  magnificent  trousseau  provided 
by  the  well-known  Demoiselles  Lolive,  enclosed  in 
a  basket  lined  with  yellow  corded  silk  embroidered  in 
black  chenille  and  heavily  scented  with  that  delicious 
perfume,  Peau  dEspagne.  Among  the  garments,  all 
of  which  were  enveloped  in  muslin  wrappers  tied  up 
with  pink  favours,  were  twelve  dozen  chemises  made 

221 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  GAMPAN 

of  the  finest  cambric  trimmed  with  cobweb  lace,  twelve 
dozen  embroidered  handkerchiefs  edged  with  Valen- 
ciennes and  Malines  lace,  numberless  shoes,  stockings, 
petticoats — everything  she  could  wish  for  and  much 
more  than  was  necessary  for  the  wife  of  a  soldier,  be 
he  ever  so  brave. 

It  must  be  confessed  that  Cinderella's  subsequent 
career  did  not  do  much  credit  to  her  governess.  "  Her 
manners,"  said  her  cousin,  Mme  Junot,  very  bitterly, 
**  left  much  to  be  desired."  When  driving  out  with  the 
future  duchesse  d'Abrantes,  Mme  Murat  would  con- 
sume quantities  of  cakes  and  grapes  without  thinking 
of  offering  any  to  her  cousin  until  they  were  nearly  all 
eaten.  People  laid  the  blame  of  her  ill-breeding  upon 
Mme  Campan,  who,  they  said,  was  in  the  habit  of 
letting  her  well-connected  pupils  do  exactly  as  they 
liked  in  order  that  she  might  be  popular  with  the 
young  misses. 

A  week  after  her  marriage,  Caroline  paid  a  visit 
to  her  former  schoolfellows.  Maman  Campan  wrote  : 
"Her  carriage  was  filled  with  sweetmeats  ;  this  fact, 
however,  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  warm  welcome 
which  she  received ;  the  sweetmeats,  nevertheless, 
were  highly  appreciated.  ..." 

On  February  19,  1800,  the  First  Consul  took  up 
his  abode  at  the  Tuileries.  Hortense  now  left  the 
pleasant  home  at  Saint-Germain,  where  she  had  known 
nothing  but  happiness.  She  was  about  to  enter  upon 
a  new  career,  for  **  Petite  Bonne  "  would  now  have  to 
play  the  part  of  dutiful  stepdaughter  to  the  greatest 
man  in  Europe.  Years  afterwards  Maman  Campan 
would  remind  her  favourite  of  the  feeling  of  terror 
with  which   the     once    light-hearted    Hortense    had 

222 


u  PETITE  BONNE"  AT  THE  TUILERIES 

entered  upon  her  career  as  a  fashionable  demoiselle  ^ 
marier : — 

**  I  love  to  think  of  your  first  and  well-founded 
alarm  at  the  sudden  turn  in  your  fortune.  .  .  .  Do  you 
remember,  Madame,  how  sad  you  looked  when  you 
said  to  poor  Adele  ( Auguid)  and  to  me  :  *  My  step- 
father is  a  comet  of  which  we  form  the  tail ;  we  must 
follow  him  in  blind  ignorance  as  to  his  destination. 
Will  it  be  for  our  happiness  ?  Will  it  be  for  our  mis- 
fortune ?  .  .  .'  And  the  impatience  of  your  amiable 
and  tender  mother  when  you  did  not  come  down  to 
dinner  punctually  at  La  Malmaison,  and  the  First 
Consul  having  already  entered  the  dining-room,  she 
went  up  to  your  room  where  you  were  drawing  that 
fine  portrait  of  the  Mameluke  Roustan,  in  order  to 
scold  you,  and  ask  whether  you  expected  to  earn  your 
living  as  an  artist  that  you  worked  so  hard?  And 
your  wonderfully  philosophical  reply  considering  your 
age  :  *  Madame,  who  can  tell  in  these  days  of  un- 
expected changes  whether  we  shall  not  have  to  do  so 
some  day  ? '  .  .  ." 

Mme  Campan  was  not  without  some  misgivings  as 
to  how  her  beloved  "Petite  Bonne"  would  behave, 
now  that  she  was  living  in  a  palace  : — 

*' So,  my  good  Hortense,"  wrote  she,  "you  are 
now  inhabiting  a  very  pretty  room.  Be  careful  to 
regulate  your  daily  life  ;  allow  me  to  give  you  my 
affectionate  advice  during  your  future  career.  The 
most  important  thing  is  never  to  show  yourself  at  the 
windows  ;  have  muslin  curtains  in  your  room  during 
the  winter,  and  canvas  blinds  during  the  summer 
months  :  never  did  the  person  who  formerly  lived  there 
allow  any  young  females,  in  whom  she  took  an  interest, 

223 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

to  show  themselves  at  the  window.  The  most  im- 
pudent dandies  would  come  and  strut  about  under 
your  windows,  just  because  they  had  seen  you  at  a 
few  dances.  .  .  .  Do  not  go  often  to  balls  ;  do  not  let 
the  public  see  you  too  frequently ;  avoid  fast  women. 
.  .  .  Dieu !  how  proud  am  I !  and  how  my  pride 
awakens  prayers,  wishes,  fears  for  you  !  .  .  .  You  must 
also  have  lessons  from  Bonesi ;  ^  the  busier  you  are,  the 
happier  you  will  be  !  We  will  speak  of  books  another 
time.     Adieu,  my  angel." 

On  February  24,  1800,  Mme  Campan  gave  a 
grand  masked  ball  at  which  Z06  Talon,  the  future 
Mme  du  Cayla,  dressed  as  an  old  cake- woman,  created 
quite  a  furore  with  her  lively  repartees.  The  two 
little  Talon  girls  had  been  brought  to  Mme  Campan 
soon  after  she  opened  her  establishment  by  the  comte 
de  Scepeaux,  at  that  time  an  officer  in  La  Vendde,  beg- 
ging her  to  take  care  of  the  children,  whose  father  was 
imprisoned  in  the  Temple  and  their  mother  in  hiding. 

A  letter  from  Mme  Campan  dated  March  7  of  this 
same  year  gives  us  a  peep  into  those  days  of  stiff 
ceremony  and  company  manners,  when  any  attempt  to 
show  the  natural  feelings  in  company  was  considered 
du  plus  mauvais  ton  : — 

**  Embrace  my  dear  Caroline  (Murat)  very  tenderly 
for  me,"  she  writes  to  Hortense  ;  **  tell  her  that,  as  her 
former  governess,  I  beg  of  her  not  to  give  visible 
tokens  of  affection  to  her  dear  husband  when  she 
goes  to  the  play  with  him  ;  she  is  severely  criticized 
on  this  point,  nay,  more !  she  is  blamed.  We  owe 
great  respect  to  the  public ;  by  acting  thus  she 
offends  public  morality  ;  for  if  a  young  wife  does  not 

^  A  fashionable  professor  of  singing 
224 


Caroline  Bonaparte, 
with  her  daughter  marie. 


From  a  painting  by   Le  Brim, 


•      o « 


MAMAN  CAMPAN  GIVES  GOOD  ADVICE 

behave  with  reserve  towards  her  husband,  another 
woman  may  take  liberties  with  her  lover — and  then 
what  would  become  of  the  theatre  and  other  public 
assemblies?  Moreover,  all  eyes  are  fixed  upon  the 
Bonaparte  family,  and  you  are  ever  before  the  public. 
Would  you  believe  that  people  blame  me  when  my 
pupils  are  guilty  of  small  faults?  Be  sure  to  tell 
Caroline  that  I  only  give  her  this  advice  because  I 
take  an  interest  in  her ;  I  shall  always  look  upon  you 
and  her  as  my  daughters.  ..." 

Mme  Campan,  knowing  that  Hortense  could 
neither  ask  for,  nor  receive,  good  advice  from  her 
mother — for  Josephine  was  one  of  those  women  whose 
chief  object  in  life  is  to  get  on  in  the  world  and  to  be 
amused — wrote  the  following  letter  to  her  beloved 
pupil,  hoping  thereby  to  save  her  from  imitating  her 
mother's  example : — 

**  To  Mile  Euginie^  de  Beauharnais  at  the  Tuileries, 

"  8  germinal^  an  Vlli. 

*'You  are  now,  my  dear  Hortense,  in  a  social 
whirlpool,  which  obliges  you  to  lunch  seven  days  in 
the  ddcade  in  town  and  d^cadP  and  primidi  at  La 
Malmaison  ;  if  this  continues  you  will  no  longer  have 
time  to  attend  to  your  studies.  You  will  have  to  bid 
farewell  to  all  serious  occupations,  and  be  content  to 
hear  all  Paris  say  that  you  have  been  drawn  into  the 
social  whirlpool,  unless  you  are  brave  and  strong 
enough  to  resist  this  dangerous  whirlpool  towards 
which  even  your  Mama,  in  her  very  natural  pleasure 

^  Hortense  de  Beauharnais  was  baptized  Eugdnie-Hortense  and  for 
the  first  years  of  her  life  was  called  Eugenie. 

2  DScadi  and  primidi  =\.^n\h  and  first  days  of  the  decade  in  the 
calendar  of  the  first  French  Republic. 
P  225 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

at  having  you  with  her,  is  drawing  you.  But  take 
care,  my  Hortense ;  those  who  invite  you  are  not 
doing  so  for  your  good  but  for  their  own,  because  you 
are  the  most  popular  person  of  the  day — a  terrifying 
fact  when  we  think  of  it,  for  it  means  that  that  favour 
is  only  temporary.  So  say  to  yourself  bravely :  '  I 
will  devote  my  mornings  to  study,  /  will,  1  will' 
This  IS  how  I  think  you  ought  to  employ  your  time : 
You  must  retire  so  as  to  be  in  bed  by  midnight ;  you 
must  rise  at  9  o'clock  in  the  morning.  You  must  take 
a  lesson  from  half-past  nine  until  lunch,  or  else  draw 
by  yourself:  this  is  most  important.  After  lunch 
another  lesson. 

''  Duodi, — Hyacinthe  Jadin  ;  a  drawing  lesson  on 
the  same  day. 

*•  Tridi, — Bonesi  at  the  same  hour,  then  draw  by 
yourself  if  you  wish. 

**  Quartidi. — Hyacinthe  Jadin,  and  your  drawing- 
master. 

"  Quintidi. — Bonesi,  and  draw  by  yourself. 

**  Sestidi. — Hyacinthe  Jadin,  and  your  drawing- 
master. 

"  Septidi, — Grasset,  and  your  ordinary  studies. 

"  Octidi. — Hyacinthe  Jadin,  and  the  drawing- 
master. 

"  Nonidi,  dScadiy  and  primidi  will  be  holidays  on 
account  of  being  in  the  country. 

"  By  paying  your  professors  punctually  every  first 
day  of  the  month  you,  with  your  mother's  consent, 
will  have  the  satisfaction  of  paying  regularly,  and 
enjoying  the  esteem  which  always  belongs  to  persons 
who  are  punctual  in  their  payments.  ..." 

226 


ARREST  OF  MME  CAMPAN'S  FRIENDS 

In  the  month  of  April,  Mme  Campan  found  her- 
self in  a  very  disagreeable  position,  owing  to  the  fact 
that  two  of  her  most  intimate  friends  at  Saint-Germain, 
an  old  lady  of  nearly  eighty  years  of  age,  Mme  de 
I'Hopital  by  name,  and  Dr.  Dubreuil,  physician  to  her 
establishment,  were  accused  of  being  concerned  in  a 
plot  against  the  Government ;  the  doctor  was  also 
accused  of  visiting  an  ex-prisoner  of  the  Temple,  M. 
Talon,  the  father  of  Zo6,  one  of  Mme  Campan's 
cleverest  pupils.  The  First  Consul  was  never  a  partisan 
of  half-measures  ;  he  promptly  gave  orders  for  the 
arrest  of  Mme  Campan's  friends.  But  before  being 
dragged  off  to  prison  in  Paris,  Dr.  Dubreuil  had  time 
to  scribble  off  a  little  note  to  Mme  Campan  in  which  he 
besought  her  to  use  her  influence  with  the  First  Consul. 

Mme  Campan  immediately  hurried  up  to  Paris  and 
requested  the  new  proprietor  of  the  Tuileries  to  grant 
her  an  interview. 

His  first  words  were  far  from  reassuring. 

*'  So  you  have  come  to  plead  for  the  inhabitants  of 
Saint-Germain,"  he  remarked  curtly ;  "  your  Mme 
de  I'Hopital  is  an  intriguer." 

**  Excuse  me,  General,"  replied  his  visitor,  "people 
may  have  reproached  her  for  having  been  a  little 
flighty  in  her  youth,  but  at  seventy-eight  years  of  age 
that  is  all  past  and  gone.  She  never  was  an  intriguer, 
no  !  coquetry  was  more  natural  to  her.  But  she  is  now 
blind.     She  entertains  a  few  friends  every  evening." 

Josephine's  presence  during  this  interview  perhaps 
softened  the  First  Consul,  for  he  now  said  : — 

"A  blind  woman  of  seventy-eight  years  of  age 
can  never  be  anything  but  innocent  of  political  crimes. 
The    Minister  has   been   guilty   of    gross   barbarity^ 

227 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

unworthy  of  a  Government  such  as  mine  !  If  Fouch6 
had  been  in  league  with  my  enemies,  he  could  not 
have  done  better !  He  must  have  been  crazy  to 
commit  such  a  blunder !  I  will  not  allow  my  authority 
to  be  employed  for  such  acts.  I  desire  my  authority 
to  be  used  with  reason ;  a  Government  should  have 
wide  views  and  generous  impulses  ;  what  has  just 
happened  is  worthy  of  the  mistress  of  a  sovereign 
when  she  is  in  a  passion.  I  do  not  intend  matters  to 
be  conducted  in  this  manner  ;  a  Minister  should  never 
display  passionate  behaviour,  because  people  may  be 
led  to  think  that  the  chief  of  the  State  is  governed  by 
his  temper.  History  should  never  forget  anything ; 
what  would  history  say  of  such  a  deed  ?  What  has 
the  doctor  done  ?  " 

'*  He  prescribed  for  M.  Talon's  child,  General,  and 
he  has  for  long  been  in  the  habit  of  visiting  his  former 
companion  in  misfortune — for  he  and  M.  Talon  were 
at  one  time  imprisoned  together  in  the  Temple." 

**  It  is  incredible  !  A  doctor  has  the  rigfht  to  feel 
the  pulse  of  my  enemy  as  well  as  that  of  my  friend 
without  a  Minister  daring  to  complain.  Abuses  com- 
promise authority,  and  make  it  unpopular.  I  am 
going  to  have  an  explanation  with  the  Minister  and 
Hberate  his  victims." 

So  saying.  General  Bonaparte  rushed  to  the  bell, 
tugged  at  it  violently,  and  ordered  his  servant  to  fetch 
Fouch6  immediately.  That  astute  gentleman  got  **a 
good  blowing-up,"  as  Mme  Campan  puts  it,  \whh 
many  apologies  for  using  such  an  unladylike  expres- 
sion. Nevertheless  Fouch^  managed,  by  bungling 
and  dilatoriness,  to  keep  the  so-called  conspirators  in 
prison  for  another  twenty-four  hours. 

228 


CARRIAGE-FOLK 

Great  was  Mme  de  THopital's  delight  when  she 
was  told  that  Mme  Bonaparte  had  sent  one  of  her 
own  carriages  to  take  Fouch^'s  victims  back  to  Saint- 
Germain  ;  she  almost  forgot  the  indignity  to  which 
she  had  been  subjected,  and  cried  in  her  joy  at  the 
idea  of  being  seen  driving  through  the  streets  of 
Saint-Germain  in  one  of  the  First  Consul's  car- 
riages : — 

*'  Has  Mme  Bonaparte  sent  her  beautiful  white 
equipage  ?  " 

"Eh!  Madame,"  snapped  out  Dr.  Dubreuil ; 
*'  what  does  it  matter  whether  it  be  white  or  black  so 
long  as  it  takes  us  away  from' here  ?  " 

Such  is  the  ingratitude  of  mankind  that  Mme 
Talon,  instead  of  thanking  her  daughter's  governess 
for  obtaining  the  release  of  her  husband's  friend, 
accused  her  of  trying  to  backbite  her. 

Mme  Campan's  letters  to  Hortense  contain  much 
good  advice  : — 

''Write  your  letters  very  carefully,"  says  she;  "a 
letter  written  by  a  woman  of  quality  to  her  milliner 
may  fall  into  the  hands  of  persons  who  can  guess  by 
its  style  whether  the  writer  is  well-bred  or  not." 

Mme  Campan  probably  had  Caroline  in  her  mind 
when  she  wrote  : — 

*'  A  woman  who  only  wishes  to  please  her  husband 
is  adorned  by  her  virtues  and  not  by  fine  clothes ;  she 
cares  naught  for  the  offensive  admiration  of  strangers. 
Prudence  and  modesty  become  her  far  more  than  gold 
and  emeralds ;  her  charming  visage  is  tinged  with 
modesty  ;  her  thrift,  her  desire  to  please  her  husband, 
her  affection,  her  meekness — these  are  the  jewels 
which  enhance  her  beauty.     A  virtuous  woman  con- 

229 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

siders  her  husband's  wishes  as  a  sacred  law  ;  she  brings 
him  a  valuable  dowry,  prudence  and  obedience  ;  for  a 
beautiful  soul  is  preferable  to  Fortune's  deceitful  and 
ephemeral  gifts,  and  to  bodily  charms  which  will  soon 
fade.  Beauty  is  ruined  by  illness,  but  the  beauty  of 
the  soul  endures  as  long  as  life.  ..." 

During  the  spring  of  1800  another  little  Bonaparte 
came  to  nestle  under  Mme  Campan's  wings.  This 
child  was  the  eldest  living  daughter  of  Lucien 
Bonaparte,  who  in  the  previous  year  had  lost  his  wife, 
the  tenderly  loved  Christine  Boyer,  on  which  occasion 
Josephine  had  dared  to  assert  that  Lucien  had 
poisoned  his  wife,  whereas  she  had  really  died  of  con- 
sumption. At  the  time  of  her  marriage,  Christine 
had  neither  been  able  to  read  nor  write ;  but  so  deter- 
mined was  she  not  to  disgrace  her  husband  by  her 
ignorance,  that  she  set  to  work  to  educate  herself,  and 
succeeded  so  well  that  at  the  end  of  a  few  months  she 
could  write  quite  a  good  hand.  Her  letters  are  better 
than  if  they  had  been  written  by  a  clever  woman — for 
they  show  her  to  have  been  a  charming  and  affectionate 
wife  and  mother. 

Napoleon  had  never  forgiven  Lucien  for  marry- 
ing without  his  consent ;  however,  on  hearing  of 
Christine's  death,  the  First  Consul  wrote  to  the 
widower  :  *'  You  have  lost  an  excellent  wife.  A  good 
wife  has  a  good  influence  over  her  husband.  I  hope  I 
may  never  need  the  courage  which  you  now  require 
in  order  to  be  able  to  bear  such  a  misfortune." 

Christine,  who  was  two  years  older  than  her 
husband,  had  borne  him  four  children,  only  two  of 
whom  had  lived  any  time,  Christine  Charlotte,  born 
1795,  and  Christine  Egypta,  born  1798. 

230 


DEATH  OF  LUCIEN  S  FIRST  WIFE 

Lucien  buried  his  dear  Christine  in  the  grounds 
of  his  property  at  Plessis-Chamant,  with  the  following 
inscription  on  her  tomb  : — 

**  Lover,^  wife,  and  mother  without  reproach." 

On  hearing  of  her  daughter-in-law's  death, 
Madame  Mere  hastened  down  to  Plessis-Chamant, 
where  Elisa  (Mme  Baciocchi),  of  whom  Joseph 
Bonaparte  said  that  "  she,  of  all  the  Bonapartes,  most 
resembled  Napoleon  in  all  respects,"  had  helped  to 
smooth  the  dying  woman's  pillow.  Lucien  wrote 
years  after  this  event :  **  I  was  alone  with  my  two 
little  daughters.  My  sister  Elisa  acted  the  part  of  a 
mother  to  them  at  the  time  of  the  catastrophe.  It  was 
therefore  my  two  little  daughters  and  this  dearly-loved 
sister  who  first  consoled  me  in  my  cruel  loss.  We 
wept  together  over  the  tomb  which  I  erected  to 
Christine's  memory  in  a  lonely,  sheltered  corner  of  my 
park.  Elisa  loved  tending  the  little  garden  round 
the  grave  of  the  woman  whom  I  had  cherished  so 
fondly,  and  who  so  thoroughly  deserved  my  affection, 
almost  as  much  as  I  did.  When  Christine  lay  dying 
in  my  arms  and  those  of  our  sister  Elisa,  she  ex- 
pressed a  hope  that  her  two  little  daughters,  Charlotte 
and  Egypta,  would  not  want  for  a  mother's  care  ; 
whereupon  Elisa  promised  to  tend  them,  which  sacred 
promise  she  kept  for  four  years." 

Mme  Bonaparte  at  first  had  the  eldest  child, 
Charlotte,  or  Lolotte,  as  the  motherless  lamb  called 
herself,  to  stay  with  her  at  the  Tuileries ;  but  after  a 
few  months  had  elapsed,  Josephine  took  her  niece  to 
Mme  Campan,  and  begged  her  to  attend  to  Lolotte's 

^  The  word  lover  {amante)  was  afterwards  erased  and  friend  {amie) 
inserted  in  its  place. 

231 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

much-neglected  education.  Now  Maman  Campan 
was  always  extremely  successful  with  very  young 
children ;  she  explains  her  secret  in  her  work,  De 
t Education : — 

''While  I  was  at  Saint-Germain  a  little  maid  of 
five  years  of  age  was  brought  to  me  ;  she  seemed 
languid  and  morose.  I  immediately  took  her  on  my 
lap,  laid  her  head  on  my  breast,  and  kissed  her, 
whereupon  she  smiled  up  into  my  face  and  began  to 
shed  tears  of  joy  ;  she  soon  became  quite  happy  and 
sweet-tempered.  I  had  another  little  pupil  of  ten 
years  of  age  who  had  had  an  attack  of  paralysis  in 
one  of  her  arms.  I  went  to  see  her  every  day  in  the 
infirmary,  when  she  would  stare  at  me  out  of  her  big 
black  eyes.  A  remark  from  the  nurse  gave  me  to 
understand  that  she  thought  the  child  was  merely 
feigning  illness ;  it  is  commonly  believed  that  this 
malady  only  attacks  elderly  people.  I  took  the  poor 
child  into  my  room  and  put  her  into  my  own  bed.  I 
was  not  mistaken  ;  the  little  creature,  who  was  very 
intelligent,  had  been  accused  by  the  nurses  of  feigning 
indisposition,  this  injustice  had  so  chagrined  her  that 
the  doctors'  drugs  had  had  no  effect  upon  her.  That 
child  is  now  the  comtesse  de  Nicolai".  .  .  ." 

Before  Lolotte  had  been  many  weeks  with  Maman 
Campan,  that  lady  wrote  to  Mme  Bonaparte  : — 

**  Lolotte  is  already  quite  a  different  child ;  she 
speaks  more  quietly,  is  more  attentive  to  her  book. 
I  make  her  lessons  very  short,  for  it  is  a  difficult 
matter  to  fix  a  little  child's  attention  for  ten  minutes 
at  a  time.  I  prefer  to  give  her  two  lessons  a  day.  I 
do  the  same  for  the  piano.  ..." 

Poor   baby !   we    can    imagine    how    the    child 

232 


AUNT  JOSEPHINE  PROVES  STRICT 

must  have  hated  those  black  and  white  notes,  which 
to  her  little  ears  and  eyes  must  have  sounded  and 
looked  so  provokingly  alike. 

But  Maman  Campan  was  patient  and  the  pupil 
obedient,  and  soon  they  were  able  to  play  little  duets 
together.  In  another  letter,  written  just  before  the 
holidays,  Maman  Campan  wrote  : — 

"  Lolotte  changes  for  the  better  every  day ;  I  am 
correcting  all  her  little  faults.  She  is  a  pretty  child 
and  has  good  qualities.  Let  me  hear  if  the  First 
Consul  has  noticed  any  improvement  in  her." 

Great  must  have  been  Mme  Campans  dismay 
when  Lolotte,  on  returning  to  Saint- Germain  after 
the  holidays,  handed  her  the  following  letter  written 
by  the  wife  of  the  First  Consul : — 

**  To  Madame  Campan,  at  Saint-Germain. 

**  In  sending  back  my  niece,  my  dear  Mme 
Campan,  I  beg  you  to  allow  me  both  to  thank  and  to 
blame  you.  I  thank  you  for  your  kind  care  of  her, 
for  the  brilliant  education  which  you  are  giving  to 
this  child.  But  I  blame  you  for  the  faults  which  you 
in  your  sagacity  have  noticed  in  her,  but  which  you 
in  your  indulgence  have  tolerated.  This  little  girl  is 
gentle  but  unaffectionate ;  she  is  clever  for  her  years 
but  disdainful  ;  witty  but  tactless  ;  nobody  loves  her, 
but  she  does  not  care.  She  thinks  that  her  uncle's 
reputation  and  her  father's  valour  are  everything. 
Be  very  severe,  very  strict  with  her ;  let  her  see  that 
such  things  are  worthless.  We  live  at  a  time  when 
everybody  has  to  work  out  his  or  her  own  fate ;  it  is 
only  the  most  amiable  and  the  most  useful  members 
of  society  who  can  hope  to  be  chosen  by  the  State  to 

233 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

serve  it  and  enjoy  a  few  favours  and  advantages. 
Thus  and  thus  only  can  the  fortunate  hope  to  silence 
the  envious.  That,  my  dear  Mme  Campan,  is  what 
you  ought  to  have  taught  my  niece,  and  that  is  what 
you  should  never  cease  to  repeat  to  her  in  my  name. 
I  wish  her  to  treat  as  her  equals  all  her  schoolfellows, 
most  of  whom  are  better  or  as  good  as  herself,  and 
who  do  not  lack  for  parents  more  clever  and  more 
lucky  than  her  own." 

This  last  remark  is  very  unkind ;  but  then 
Josephine  hated  Lucien  with  all  the  force  of  her 
Creole  nature.  She  forgot  that  she  was  writing  of 
a  little  motherless  child,  still  scarcely  more  than  a 
baby.  She  had  detested  Lolotte's  mother  even  more. 
On  the  rare  and  painful  occasions  when  Mme 
Bonaparte  had  visited  her  sister-in-law,  she  had 
treated  Christine  as  her  inferior,  almost  as  a  menial, 
making  her  hostess  follow  her  about  in  her  own 
house  ''like  a  dog  trotting  after  its  master,"  as  Mme 
d'Abrantes  puts  it,  "and  taking  the  seat  of  honour." 

During  the  summer  of  1800  the  monotony  of 
school-life  at  Saint-Germain  was  again  pleasantly 
varied  by  a  courtship,  in  this  case  more  romantic  than 
that  of  Emilie  de  Beauharnais  by  Lavalette.  One  of 
Mme  Campan  s  pupils,  Clementine  de  Manherbes,  the 
daughter  of  a  returned  dmigrd,  received  while  still  at 
school  a  proposal  of  marriage  from  a  M.  de  V^rigni, 
who,  with  Maman  Campan's  consent,  became  her 
accepted  fianc^  and  was  allowed  to  pay  her  periodical 
visits,  when  the  young  couple  sat  on  two  chairs  in  the 
governess's  sanctum  and  made  love  under  the  watch- 
ful eye  of  that  lady.     In  an  amusing  letter  to  Hortense, 

234 


UNSEEMLY  BEHAVIOUR 

Mme  Campan  depicts  the  behaviour  suitable  to  pro- 
spective brides : — 

"  One  can  see  that  Httle  Clementine  is  deeply  in 
love  with  her  fianc6 ;  but  she  is  so  ashamed  of  the 
fact,  that  she  positively  looks  like  a  criminal.  When" 
people  congratulate  her  upon  her  marriage,  which 
takes  place  next  decadi,  she  covers  her  face  with  her 
hands  and  sinks  her  head  on  her  breast.  I  disap- 
prove of  such  extreme  timidity ;  such  a  ridiculous 
shame  of  the  consequences  of  marriage  is  almost  un- 
seemly. In  this  case  a  calm,  decent,  dignified  deport- 
ment appears  to  me  to  be  much  more  suitable.  .  .  ." 


235 


CHAPTER  XII 

A  fashionable  boarding-school  in  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century 
— Anglomania  and  the  anges  gardiens  —  Mme  Campan  gives 
Hortense  de  Beauharnais  good  advice  concerning  the  choice  of  a 
husband — Two  more  members  of  the  de  Beauharnais  family  come 
to  Saint-Germain — One  of  Mme  Campan's  former  pupils  incurs  the 
First  Consul's  displeasure — The  young  ladies  fete  the  signing  of  the 
Treaty  of  Lun^ville — Peace  is  concluded  with  England — Hortense 
is  betrothed  to  Louis  Bonaparte — General  Bonaparte  finds  a  wife 
for  General  Davout— Fdlicit^  Fodoas  becomes  Mme  Savary. 

One  of  Mme  Campan's  favourite  sayings  was  that 
"a  good  education  is  a  fortune  in  itself,"  and  she 
prided  herself  upon  giving  her  pupils  the  very  best 
education  which  money  could  obtain.  She  was 
particular  as  to  the  food  given  to  the  young  ladies, 
whose  meals  she  always  shared  ;  one  consequence  of 
this  habit  was  an  increase  in  the  expenses  of  the 
establishment.  In  her  work,  De  l Education,  she 
gives  a  deplorable  picture  of  the  privations  endured 
by  children  at  public-schools  a  century  ago. 

*'The  schools  where  children  are  well  fed  are  all 
too  few  ;  they  sometimes  do  not  get  enough  to  eat. 
It  is  shameful  to  hear  complaints  about  such  an 
extremely  important  matter.  We  frequently  hear  of 
pupils  bursting  into  complaints  at  the  sight  of  the 
revolting  food  placed  before  them,  rebelling  in  their 
refectories  and  becoming  riotous  for  a  reason  con- 
sidered of  no  importance  by  their  masters.  ..." 

236 


LES  ANGES  GARDIENS 

She  condemns  the  practice  of  children  paying  the 
servants  to  buy  them  food  outside  the  school  : — 

''The  servants,  whose  sole  desire  is  to  cheat  the 
pupils,  always  choose  unsuitable  food ;  these  clan- 
destine feasts  consumed  out  of  meal-time  only  ruin 
the  children's  health.  ..." 

Mme  Campan's  establishment  was  considered 
expensive  in  those  days,  when  day-schools  were 
almost  unknown  in  France.  In  the  above-mentioned 
work  she  gives  her  compatriots  some  interesting  de- 
tails concerning  the  numerous  boarding-schools  which 
then  existed  in  England  and  America. 

''There  are  many  schools  in  England,"  says  she, 
"  where  the  scholars  pay  from  one  hundred  to  one 
hundred  and  fifty  guineas  a  year.  The  holidays  last 
six  weeks,  and  at  the  beginning  of  every  new  school- 
year  the  parents  pay  an  extra  sum  of  six  guineas  for 
the  servants'  wages." 

Maman  Campan  could  speak  with  authority  upon 
that  vexed  question,  the  merits  and  demerits  of  les 
anges gardiens.  Although  she  disapproved  of  English 
nurses  she  recognized  the  necessity  of  engaging 
English  governesses  to  teach  their  own  language  to 
her  pupils.  But  it  is  somewhat  surprising  to  learn 
that  already  at  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century 
many  snobettes  in  Paris  had  adopted  the  fashion  of 
having  English  nurses  for  their  children.  "  I  allow," 
says  she,  "  that  the  pronunciation  and  the  idioms  of 
the  two  languages  can  be  learnt  more  easily  in  child- 
hood. .  .  .  However,  an  English  nurse  may  also 
inculcate  many  false  ideas  into  her  charge's  mind. 
If  the  mother  does  not  understand  the  language  the 
nurse,  unless  constantly  watched,  will   as  freely  in- 

237 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

dulge  in  faults  and  go  her  own  way  as  obstinately  as 
any  French  servant ;  and,  like  the  latter,  she  will 
put  your  little  ones  to  sleep  by  telling  them  stories  of 
ghosts  and  hobgoblins,  will  not  fail  to  make  them 
afraid  of  mice  and  spiders,  and  will  instil  into  their 
little  minds  those  ideas  which  are  so  tenacious  and 
always  prevent  the  development  of  the  reasoning 
powers.  ..." 

She  had  a  very  high  opinion  of  Maria  Edge- 
worth's  works,  and  said  ''everything  by  her  which 
has  been  translated  is  good."  She  recommended 
many  English  customs ;  however,  there  was  one 
fashion  which  scandalized  her  and  which  she  says  she 
shall  take  good  care  not  to  imitate.  "  As  dancing  is 
forbidden  on  Sunday  by  the  Anglican  Church,  the 
directors  of  the  London  boys'  schools,  in  order  to 
finish  the  week  well,  send  their  pupils  to  spend 
Saturday  afternoon  at  the  girls'  schools  ;  but  the  great 
boys  (in  English)  and  the  young  misses  in  England  (in 
English)  remain  children  three  or  four  years  longer 
than  the  children  of  our  country  owing  to  the  climate 
and  the  habits  of  the  people  ;  we  in  France  could  not 
run  the  risk  of  allowing  such  assemblies !  " 

We  doubt  very  much  whether  Mme  Campan 
approved  of  Rousseau's  advice  to  mothers  to  bathe 
their  children  daily  in  ice-cold  water  in  winter.  But 
she  certainly  did  approve  of  his  protest  against  the 
custom  of  winding  babes  up  in  nine  yards  of  linen 
and  flannel  so  that  they  looked  like  mummies.  **  This 
custom,"  says  she,  ''enables  the  nurse  to  get  rid  of 
her  charge  by  hanging  it  up  to  a  hook.  The  best 
way  to  accustom  an  infant  to  use  its  limbs  is  to  lay  it 
on  a  rug  or  on  a  lawn  ;  it  will  immediately  try  to  turn 

238 


LOVE  OF  LITTLE  CHILDREN 

itself  over  on  its  stomach  and  then  it  will  begin  to 
crawl  on  all  fours  like  a  little  quadruped  ;  later  it  will 
learn  to  raise  itself  on  its  feet,  balance  itself  against 
some  object,  and  then  make  a  few  steps  without  any 
other  support  than  its  mother's  hands." 

She  tells  us  that  at  one  time  it  was  the  fashion  to 
dress  little  girls  like  little  boys — a  fashion  still  seen  at 
some  French  bathing-places — and  she  recommends 
both  sexes  being  allowed  to  play  and  learn  together 
until  the  age  of  seven  years. 

"Young  or  old,"  wrote  she  in  one  of  her  most 
touching  chapters,  "  we  women  can  never  behold 
an  infant  in  swaddling-clothes  without  experiencing  a 
feeling  which  no  man  can  quite  understand.  .  .  .  The 
intelligence  of  a  one-year  old  child  develops  so  rapidly 
that,  although  it  is  condemned  to  silence,  it  passes  a 
great  part  of  its  time  in  noticing  people  and  things. 
Look  at  the  little  creature,  how,  at  six  months,  it 
recognizes  its  mother  and  its  nurse,  and  soon  after 
points  to  its  father.  When  it  cries,  it  is  fed ;  it 
smiles,  it  kicks  its  little  feet  about  in  the  air  with 
delight.  At  other  times  when  it  cries,  it  is  taken 
out  of  doors  ;  it  breathes  the  fresh  air  of  the  garden  ; 
and  the  smile  which  takes  the  place  of  the  tears  tells 
you  :  *  That  is  just  what  I  wanted  ! '  " 

Maman  Campan  could  be  very  strict  on  occasion 
in  consequence  of  having  seen  a  little  girl  of  five  years 
of  age,  the  only  child  of  her  parents,  die  because  she 
had  refused  to  drink  the  physic  which  might  have 
saved  her  life  :  *'  Prayers,  promises,  bribes  were  all 
tried  in  vain  :  she  always  pushed  the  cup  away. 
Since  then  I  have  ever  accustomed  my  pupils  to  drink 
bitter  physic  from  time  to  time."     She  made  a  special 

239 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMP  AN 

point  of  teaching  kindness  to  animals,  and  never  ceased 
to  protest  against  children  being  allowed  to  see 
domestic  creatures  killed  for  eating. 

All  her  pupils  were  taught  to  put  their  toys  away 
when  they  had  done  playing  with  them.  "The  child 
who  has  drawn  the  same  coach  up  and  down  his 
mother's  garden  a  whole  winter  long  is  as  happy  as 
he  whose  cupboards  are  bursting  with  toys ;  by 
making  him  put  his  little  coach  in  its  stable  every  night 
he  will  learn  to  be  tidy.  .  .  .  Dolls  are  as  necessary 
to  little  girls  as  tin  soldiers  to  their  brothers.  As 
soon  as  a  little  girl  can  toddle,  if  she  has  no  doll  of 
her  own  she  will  nurse  a  bundle  of  rags.  By  the 
effect  of  an  admirable  instinct,  a  veritable  blessing  of 
Providence,  you  will  see  her  r^ver  le  nom  de  mere  en 
ber^ant  sa  poupde!' 

Of  foreign  governesses  in  general  Mme  Campan 
speaks  not  unkindly.  "  Foreigners  are  at  first  dis- 
agreeable and  hard  to  please  ;  I  know  this,  because  I 
had  several  in  my  house.  But  we  must  forgive 
them,  for  they  feel  strange  and  as  if  they  had  been 
uprooted.  I  think  they  are  usually  less  docile 
than  French  women.  At  Saint-Germain  I  always 
imagined  they  looked  like  full-fledged  birds  which  had 
been  imprisoned  in  an  aviary ;  so  I  let  them  hop 
about  as  they  pleased,  only  requiring  them  to  conform 
to  the  rules  of  the  establishment.  I  treated  them  so 
gently  and  so  kindly  that  they  soon  became  tame. 
One  and  all  remained  friends  with  me." 

With  all  these  luxuries  and  modern  innovations, 
Mme  Campan  was  obliged  to  limit  her  own  expenses, 
and  in  her  letters  to  Hortense  she  frequently  expresses 
a  wish  that  she  could  afford  to  buy  herself  a  carriage 

240 


HORTENSE  LOSES  HER  HEART 

in  which  to  drive  up  to  Paris.  At  last  in  the  autumn 
of  1800  she  was  able  to  scrape  together  the  necessary 
sum,  whereupon  she  wrote  in  great  glee  : — 

*'  I  am  going  to  try  to  find  a  demi-fortune  ^  which, 
by  hiring  one  horse,  will  carry  me  wherever  I  want  to 

She  used  this  carriage  when  she  paid  those  visits 
to  La  Malmaison  which  gave  so  much  pleasure  to 
both  governess  and  pupil.  On  one  of  these  visits 
Hortense  took  Manian  Campan  into  her  own  boudoir 
and  confided  to  her  kind  old  friend  that  her  mother 
and  stepfather  were  anxious  to  find  her  a  husband. 
She  had  already  had  two  or  three  proposals.  Mme 
Bonaparte,  after  trying  to  make  up  a  match  between 
her  daughter  and  Jerome  Bonaparte,  who  was  still 
scarcely  more  than  a  schoolboy,  had  thought  of  her 
enemy  Lucien  as  a  possible  husband,  so  little  did  she 
really  care  for  her  daughter ;  however,  Lucien  had 
other  plans.  M.  Rewbell,  the  son  of  the  president  of 
the  Directoire,  and  the  comte  de  Mun,  an  elderly  and 
wealthy  returned  dmigrd,  had  then  offered  themselves  ; 
one  and  all  had  met  with  no  success,  either  because 
the  First  Consul  or  the  young  lady  herself  did  not 
look  with  favour  upon  the  suitor.  The  fact  of  the 
matter  was  that  poor  little  Hortense  had  lost  her 
heart  to  Duroc,  and  the  affair  had  got  so  far  that  they 
were  on  writing  terms  with  one  another — which  means 
a  great  deal  in  France. 

On  returning  to  Saint-Germain,  Mme  Campan 
wrote  the  following  letter  of  advice,  that  advice  of 
which  poor  Hortense  all  her  life  craved  but  never 
followed  : — 

^  A  defni-fortune  is  a  four-wheeled,  one-horse  carriage. 
Q  241 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

"  To  Mile  de  Beauharnais  at  La  Mahnaison. 

'"'■  26,  fructidor^  an  vni  {September  ii,  1800). 

**  My  thoughts  have  been  constantly  with  you 
since  my  last  visit  to  La  Malmaison,  my  dear,  good 
Hortense ;  this  you  can  easily  believe  when  you 
remember  the  affection  which  I  have  sworn  to 
bestow  upon  you  as  long  as  you  live.  You  are  in 
an  embarrassing  position.  It  is  the  duty  of  every 
sensible  girl  to  avoid  choosing  a  husband  for  herself 
and  to  reserve  to  herself  the  sole  right  of  refusing 
the  suitor  supposing  the  person  chosen  by  her 
parents  does  not  please  her,  or  she  feels  she  cannot 
love  him.  You  have  exercised  this  right  in  a  similar 
circumstance,    although   my  opinion  was   favourable 

to    M.  ^   on   account   of  his    wit,    his   rank,    his 

fortune,  and  his  affection  for  you  ;  I  respected  your 
refusal  and  ceased  to  endeavour  to  persuade  you  to 
change  your  mind.  It  is  so  important  for  you,  for 
your  Mama's  happiness,  that  you  should  follow  the 
First  Consul's  advice ;  so  obey  his  wishes,  for  you 
would  surely  be  blamed  if  the  public  ever  learnt  that 
you  had  not  complied  with  his  wishes.  You  had 
nothing  to  do  with  the  strange  Fate  which,  after 
having  brought  about  the  union  of  your  Mama  with 
General  Bonaparte,  has  now  placed  you,  with  a 
rapidity  which  only  belongs  to  periods  of  revolution, 
in  the  front  ranks  of  the  State.  Be  on  your  guard 
against  the  passion  which  you  have  inspired  ;  try  not 
to  return  it ;  if  you  feel  disposed  to  accord  any 
preference  to  the  young  man  of  whom  you  spoke, 
remember  that  perhaps  it  would  be  better  for  him  if 

^  Evidently  M.  de  Mun. 
242 


THE  BETTER  PART 

you  did  not  share  his  passion.  Do  not  read  novels  ; 
and,  above  all  things,  do  not  imagine  that  you  have 
inspired  a  romantic  affection  :  genuine  happiness  lies 
very  far  away  from  such  catastrophes.  General 
Bonaparte  spoke  very  sensibly  the  other  day  when  he 
said :  *  All  these  young  heads  fancy  they  are  in 
love ! '  .  .  .  The  First  Consul  loves  you  as  if  you 
were  his  own  child.  Think  how  kind  he  has  been  to 
you  ;  remember  his  rights  as  a  stepfather ;  realize  his 
present  position.  Would  you  like  some  advice  from 
the  person  who  loves  you  best  on  earth  ?  Be  brave 
and  speak  to  him.  Tell  him  that  your  heart  is  free 
and  that  you  desire  to  comply  with  his  wishes  for 
your  establishment.  .  .  .  Do  not  go  and  ruin  your 
life.  The  misfortunes  which  we  bring  upon  ourselves 
are  the  only  unbearable  ones  ;  because  when  we  begin 
to  reason  with  ourselves,  we  see  how  mistaken  we 
were,  because  passion  makes  us  weak,  whereas  reason 
supports  us.  .  .  .  Adieu,  my  good  Hortense,  I  pray 
God  that  you  may  make  a  good  choice.  Unfortu- 
nately we  are  taught  in  our  youth  to  draw  and  sing, 
but  experience  alone  can  teach  us  how  to  perceive, 
appreciate,  and  choose  the  better  part.  .  .  ." 

As  if  she  felt  that  she  had  not  said  enough  to  her 
beloved  *'  Petite  Bonne,"  Mme  Campan  writes  soon 
afterwards  : — 

*'  The  illusion  of  love  soon  passes,  but  the  chain 
remains.  The  gentleman  appears  in  his  true  colours 
— it  is  not  his  fault  ;  /le  has  not  changed  ;  we  blame 
him  unjustly,  whereas  we  should  blame  ourselves  for 
our  own  blindness,  our  own  foolish  imagination.  .   .  ." 

Mme    Campan    found   that    Mile    Hortense    de 

243 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

Beauharnais  was  a  good  advertisement  for  her  school ; 
demands  for  admission  flowed  in  at  the  beginning  of 
every  new  term.  That  she  did  not  accept  all  the 
pupils  who  wanted  to  share  the  studies  of  the  young 
Bonapartes,  de  Beauharnais,  and  many  young 
aristocrateSy  we  learn  from  the  following  extract : — 

**  If  I  see  Madame  la  ci-devant  marquise  de 

giggling  in  a  corner  with  her  lover,  I  consider  her  no 
better  than  the  Belle  Clotilde^  whose  child  I  would 
not  admit  among  my  pupils,  whereas  I  consented  to 
receive  the  daughter  of  an  honest  farmer." 

For  this  so-called  act  of  arrogance  Mme  Campan 
was  much  blamed. 

She  now  had  under  her  care  several  pupils  whose 
relatives  had  already  won,  or  were  about  to  win,  fame 
for  themselves  ;  among  these  were  :  Anna  Leblond, 
who  later  married  a  brother  of  poor  General  Duphot ; 
Sophie  de  Marbois  (later  duchesse  de  Plaisance), 
General  Clarke's  little  girl ;  and  Eliza  de  Lally  (later 
Mme  d'Aux),  a  granddaughter  of  the  unhappy  Thomas 
Arthur,  count  of  Lally  and  baron  of  Tollendal,  and 
daughter  of  the  author  of  Strafford,  for  whose  literary 
talents  Mme  Campan  expressed  the  greatest  admira- 
tion, even  going  so  far  as  to  call  his  style  perfect.  Of 
Eliza's  grandfather  she  said  : — 

**  M.  de  Lally 's  father  was  decapitated  for  his 
despotism  while  Governor  of  Pondicherry,  but  was 
rehabilitated  after  his  death — which  is  very  satis- 
factory for  the  children  but  does  not  replace  the 
father's  head  on  his  shoulders." 

Towards   the   end   of    1800   another    motherless 
child,     Stephanie,    the    daughter    of    Claude    11    de 
^  A  fashionable  dancer  of  the  time. 
244 


NAPOLEON,  THE  LOVER  OF  CHILDREN 

Beauharnais,  and  granddaughter  of  Fanny  de 
Beauharnais,  the  poetaster,  came  to  be  educated 
at  Mme  Campan's  Seminary.  Stephanie's  mother, 
nde  Mile  de  Lezay-Marndsia,  had  died  after  giving 
birth  to  this  little  daughter,  August  28,  1789,  and  her 
father  soon  married  again.  However,  the  little  girl 
was  so  terribly  neglected  by  her  stepmother  that  an 
English  lady  took  pity  upon  her  and  persuaded  M. 
de  Beauharnais  to  let  her  place  Stephanie  at  a  convent- 
school  in  Montauban,  w^here  she  soon  won  all  hearts. 
Shortly  after  the  battle  of  Marengo  Mme  Bonaparte 
was  showing  her  husband  some  stilted  verses  written 
in  his  honour  by  Mme  Fanny  de  Beauharnais, 
when  she  happened  to  mention  the  little  motherless 
Stephanie.  When  Napoleon,  who  loved  little  children, 
asked  where  she  was,  Josephine  replied  : — 

''Her  father  has  neglected  her  shamefully.  Her 
grandmother  is  far  too  occupied  writing  poetry  to 
waste  her  time  over  her  little  granddaughter. 
However,  an  English  lady  has  taken  pity  upon  her 
and  sent  her  to  a  convent-school." 

On  hearing  this.  General  Bonaparte  loudly  re- 
proached his  wife  for  not  having  told  him  before. 

*'  How  could  you  allow  such  a  thing?"  cried  he  ; 
"  how  could  you  permit  a  member  of  your  own  family 
to  be  supported  by  a  foreigner,  an  Englishwoman, 
and  therefore  our  enemy  at  present  .<*  Are  you  not 
afraid  that  your  memory  will  suffer  for  this  negligence 
some  day  1 " 

The  First  Consul  immediately  dispatched  a 
messenger  to  the  convent  with  orders  that  the  little 
girl  was  to  be  sent  to  him.  However,  as  General 
Bonaparte  had   omitted  to  ask  the   father's  consent, 

245 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

the  good  nuns,  delighted  to  have  an  excuse  for 
keeping  the  child  away  from  such  a  godless  place  as 
Republican  Paris,  refused  to  let  her  go.  General 
Bonaparte  then  obtained  M.  de  Beauharnais'  per- 
mission to  take  away  his  child,  and  dispatched  another 
messenger  in  the  person  of  M.  de  Lezay-Marn^sia, 
Stephanie's  uncle.  To  that  gentleman's  astonishment, 
when  he  told  the  child  that  he  had  come  to  take  her 
to  her  cousin,  who  lived  in  a  very  beautiful  palace  and 
would  buy  up  all  the  toyshops  in  Paris  if  she  asked 
her  to  do  so,  Stephanie  burst  into  tears  and  refused 
to  leave  her  kind  friends,  the  nuns.  But  a  little  girl's 
wishes  count  for  naught.  .  .  . 

The  First  Consul  immediately  lost  his  heart  to  the 
delicate,  fair-haired,  blue-eyed  Stephanie,  so  unlike  the 
bouncing,  rather  coarse  Bonapartes  ;  he  welcomed  her 
to  the  Tuileries,  taking  the  motherless  child  in  his 
arms  and  kissing  her  on  both  cheeks  ;  before 
Stephanie  had  been  many  hours  in  the  palace,  she 
had  forgotten  her  kind  friends  at  Montauban  as 
completely  as  if  they  had  never  existed. 

As  for  Cousin  Josephine,  she  ransacked  all  the 
toyshops  in  the  capital,  spent  fabulous  sums  on  dolls, 
pretty  clothes,  and  jewels  for  the  little  girl  whose 
delicate  features  and  refined  manners  had  captivated 
her  ;  but  at  the  same  time  she  ordered  a  school  outfit 
— for  Mme  Bonaparte  neither  had  the  time  nor  the 
inclination  to  turn  schoolma'am.  So  when  the  outfit 
was  ready,  Stephanie  was  told  that  she  was  quite 
rested  from  the  fatigues  of  the  journey,  that  no  more 
time  must  be  lost,  and  then  she  was  packed  off  to 
Maman  Campan,  who  had  brought  up  Cousin  Hortense 
so  successfully. 

246 


I 

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i1 

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H 

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^H 

J 

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*, 

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\mJlH 

Q 

Stephanie  de  Beauharnais. 

From  a  pninting  by  Gdrard. 


STfiPHANIE  DE  BEAUHARNAIS 

One  of  Mme  Campan's  first  tasks  was  to  undo  the 
harm  caused  by  the  First  Consul's  scandalous  habit  of 
spoiling  children.  She  found  the  child  thoughtless, 
vain,  and  passionately  fond  of  pretty  clothes  and  jewels. 
But  Mme  Campan  herself  was  very  partial  to  pretty 
things,  for  she  wrote  to  Hortense,  December  29, 
1 800  : — 

"  Old  Mile  Bertin  to-day  showed  me  a  most 
original  apron  with  a  fichu  attached  which  quite  turned 
my  head  as  well  as  the  heads  of  all  the  young  ladies  ; 
although  it  is  trimmed  all  round  with  Valenciennes 
lace,  the  price  is  only  five  louis  ;  it  is  the  first  of  its 
sort.  Ask  to  see  it  and  explain  that  you  will  return 
it  if  it  does  not  suit  you.  She  will  not  sell  it  until 
you  have  inspected  it.  ..." 

About  this  time  another  Stephanie,  Mile  Stephanie 
Tascher  de  La  Pagerie,  Josephine's  cousin  and  god- 
daughter, was  entrusted  to  the  care  of  Maman 
Campan  ;  as  this  little  Stephanie  was  in  very  delicate 
health,  the  directress  of  Saint-Germain  had  to  act  the 
part  of  mother  and  nurse  rather  than  that  of  governess. 

Mme  Campan's  pupils  were  mostly  tractable  and 
good-natured  little  creatures  ;  she  tells  us,  however, 
of  one  young  miss,  aged  fifteen,  whose  airs  and  graces 
threatened  to  ruin  her  prospects  in  life  ;  to  her  she 
addressed  the  following  lecture  : — 

"  You  are  handsome,  Mademoiselle,  I  will  even  say 
that  you  are  very  handsome,  and  I  wish  to  be  the  first 
person  to  pay  you  this  agreeable  compliment,  because 
I  desire  to  add  that  your  beauty  will  soon  be  a  thing 
of  the  past.  For  human  life  is  so  brief  that  beauty 
fades  as  quickly  as  the  rose  which  we  see  withered  at 
night  and  wish  we   had   gathered    in   the   morning. 

247 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

You  are  handsome,  I  repeat,  but  I  can  say  with  equal 
truth  that  you  are  silly,  vain,  rough,  ignorant,  and 
rather  heartless ;  so  that  all  these  faults,  far  from 
passing  away  with  time  like  the  fresh  colour  in  your 
pretty  face,  will  only  increase  and  make  you  and  those 
who  live  with  you  unhappy  when  not  a  single  pleasing 
feature  is  to  be  found  in  your  physiognomy." 

Some  of  Mme  Campan's  pupils  were  already  out 
in  the  world  where  the  returned  dmigrds  were  about 
to  bestow  upon  them  the  title  of  les  cuisinieres  de 
Bonaparte.  It  must  be  confessed  that  Mme  Moreau, 
who,  as  Eugenie  Hulot,  had  enjoyed  the  immense 
advantage  of  having  Marie  Antoinette's  virtues  held 
up  to  her  for  admiration,  did  not  reflect  much  credit 
upon  her  former  governess.  Mme  Moreau's  mother, 
Mme  Hulot,  was  a  particularly  unpleasant  specimen 
of  a  French  matron :  narrow-minded,  proud,  jealous, 
fond  of  gossip  and  scandal,  and  a  bully  into  the 
bargain,  as  her  son-in-law  found  to  his  cost  before  he 
had  been  married  many  months.  At  first  Moreau 
tried  to  resist  her  iron  rule,  but  Mme  Hulot  well  knew 
that  constant  dropping  will  wear  away  the  hardest 
stone,  and  by  repeated  doses  of  nagging  she  reduced 
her  son-in-law  to  limp  submission.  Napoleon  called 
her  a  martinet,  and  said  that  she  and  her  daughter 
were  Moreau's  bad  angels,  that  they  encouraged  him  to 
do  wrong,  and  that  they  were  responsible  for  his  faults. 

When  Mme  Moreau  heard  in  December  1800  of 
the  victory  of  Hohenlinden  which  France  owed  to  her 
husband,  she  hurried  off  to  the  Tuileries  and  requested 
an  audience  of  Mme  Bonaparte.  However,  neither 
on  this  occasion  nor  on  a  subsequent  visit  was  that 
lady  visible.     Mme   Moreau  called  yet  a  third  time, 

248 


MOREAU'S  BAD  ANGELS 

taking  care  to  bring  her  mama  with  her.  But  the 
two  termagants  had  no  more  success  than  the  one  had 
had.  After  waiting  some  time  in  a  cold  anteroom, 
the  ladies  gathered  up  their  skirts  and  departed, 
Mme  Hulot  taking  care  to  remark  in  a  loud  voice  as 
she  left  the  palace  that  "the  wife  of  the  victor  of 
Hohenlinden  ought  not  to  have  been  kept  waiting 
like  that — the  Directors  would  have  treated  her  more 
politely." 

Now  General  Bonaparte  hated  nothing  more  than 
to  hear  people  regret  the  ''good  old  days"  of  the 
ancien  regime,  the  Revolution  or  the  Directoire,  as 
the  case  might  be.  On  Mme  Hulot's  remark  being 
repeated  to  him,  he  could  not  restrain  his  wrath. 

"What?"  cried  he,  "does  Mme  Hulot  regret  the 
good  old  days  of  the  Directoire  just  because  the  head 
of  the  State  has  no  time  to  spare  from  his  important 
task  to  gossip  with  old  women  ?  " 

Mme  Campan's  birthday  in  1801  reminded  her 
that  her  favourite  Hortense  was  no  longer  under  her 
wing.     On  that  occasion  she  wrote  : — 

"  I  could  not  help  thinking  of  how  my  Hortense 
and  her  good  Eugene  once  brought  me  an  orange-tree 
on  my  birthday.  Your  fate  was  very  different  then  to 
what  it  is  now,  but  I  loved  you  dearly  and  you  would 
have  found  me  the  tenderest  of  mothers  had  you  ever 
lacked  one.  Those  children  who  cannot  pay  for  their 
schooling  are  just  as  dear  to  me  as  their  fellow-pupils  ; 
I  do  not  forbid  them  to  collect  a  little  present  for  me 
on  my  birthday,  because  I  do  not  wish  to  wound  their 
feelings  and  because  I  do  not  wish  the  rich  pupils  to 
humiliate  their  poorer  companions." 

In  February  1801   Mme  Campan  learnt  that  the 

249 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

Treaty  of  Lundvllle  had  been  signed  by  the  French 
Republic  and  Austria,  whereby  the  Rhine  was  made 
France's  natural  boundary,  Austria  received  the 
Venetian  States,  and  the  German  ecclesiastical  States 
were  secularized  and  given  to  various  German  princes 
in  order  to  indemnify  them  for  their  losses.  To 
celebrate  this  great  event  Maman  Campan  gave  her 
pupils  a  whole  holiday  and  bespoke  twelve  dozen 
tartlets  for  dinner — which  shows  that  such  delicacies 
were  not  as  common  in  young  ladies'  schools  as  they 
are  nowadays.  Upon  hearing  this  good  news, 
**  Lolotte  Bonaparte  jumped  for  joy  for  a  whole 
quarter  of  an  hour."  The  holiday  concluded  with  a 
little  play  in  which  ''  Lolotte  had  a  small  part  which 
she  acted  vastly  well ;  but  neither  she  nor  the  little 
Isabey^  could  ever  remember  their  cue.  In  order  to 
prevent  any  mishap,  I  made  two  big  girls  hold  them 
by  the  hand  and  told  them  to  pinch  the  little  fingers 
of  Lolotte  and  the  little  Isabey  whenever  it  was  their 
turn  to  speak,  and  so  everything  passed  off  very  well. 
I  really  think  I  should  have  made  a  first-rate  dancing- 
mistress  for  little  dogs.  .  .  ." 

In  this  same  year  Mme  Campan's  only  child, 
Henri,  stepped  out  into  the  great  world  to  earn  his 
living.  From  the  time  she  set  up  her  establishment 
at  Montagne  de  Bon-Air,  she  never  mentions  her 
husband  in  her  writings  or  letters.  She  hinted  that 
her  marriage  had  not  been  a  success  ;  however,  the 
only  child  of  that  union  was  never  anything  but  a 
source  of  the  greatest  happiness  to  her.  Her  letters  to 
him  are  very  simple,  very  beautiful ;  one,  written  soon 
after  the  fiedgling  had  left  the  nest,  is  worth  quoting : — 

^  The  daughter  of  Isabey,  the  celebrated  miniaturiste. 
250 


A  MOTHERS  HOPES 

''^  i\  frucHdor^  an  IX. 

''Ami  cheril  why  am  I  not  a  man  now  that  my 
only  child  is  obliged  to  step  forth  on  that  road  along 
which  every  member  of  his  sex  has  to  travel  ?  Why 
cannot  I  follow  him,  guide  him,  walk  by  his  side, 
encourage  him  by  my  lessons — and  above  all  by  my 
example,  teach  him  to  love  work  ?  To  do  this  would 
be  to  enjoy  life  for  a  second  time ;  but  alas !  when 
once  the  baby-clothes  are  folded  and  laid  away,  when 
once  the  toddling  feet  have  learnt  to  walk  alone,  your 
mother,  like  all  other  mothers,  must  be  content  to 
advise.  May  my  counsel  prove  useful  to  you,  my 
Henri !  May  I,  like  my  sister,  hear  myself  praised 
for  my  son's  behaviour !  Oh  !  what  a  happy  day  it 
will  be  for  me  when  this  general  chorus  of  applause 
strikes  upon  my  ear !  Then  and  then  only  shall  I  be 
able  to  cry  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart :  '  I  have 
lived  long  enough ! '  I  shall  then  begin  a  new 
existence  enjoying  your  success  and  your  happiness. 
Everything  depends  upon  wishing  to  do  well :  that 
and  that  alone  will  lead  you  anywhere.  ...  I  stand 
on  the  bank  of  a  rapid  river  and  watch  my  dear 
pilgrim  set  sail,  and  I  cry  to  him :  '  Furl  thy  sails, 
grasp  thine  oars ! '  " 

Henri's  first  post  was  in  a  business  house  in 
Marseilles  ;  here  he  began  by  being  very  unhappy 
and  inclined  to  shirk  his  work  ;  however,  he  soon  grew 
accustomed  to  the  routine,  and  eventually  took  pride 
and  interest  in  his  profession. 

With  Mme  Campan's  ever-increasing  popularity — 
would-be  pupils  had  frequently  to  wait  several  months 
before  a  vacancy  permitted  them  to  enter  the  much- 

251 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

praised  Seminary — all  sorts  of  rumours  concerning 
her  extravagance  began  to  be  circulated  in  Paris. 
General  Boubers  had  been  trying  for  two  months  to 
get  his  little  daughter  admitted,  when  he  was  informed 
by  a  gentleman  of  the  name  of  Georges  that  he  had 
been  obliged  to  remove  his  two  daughters  from  Mme 
Campan's  establishment  because  he  found  that  they 
were  expected  to  spend  one  thousand  dcus  (;^i2o)a 
year  on  their  toilet.  General  Boubers  having  repeated 
this  piece  of  information  to  the  lady  in  question,  she 
indignantly  retorted  that  she  had  never  had  any  pupils 
of  the  name  of  Georges  under  her  care,  and  that  the 
whole  story  was  a  vile  invention  fabricated  by  some 
jealous  Parisian  schoolmistresses  who  were  afraid 
that,  now  that  the  Peace  with  England  was  about  to 
be  signed,^  "the  English  milords  would  take  their 
daughters  to  learn  of  the  confidante  of  the  unfortunate 
French  queen." 

All  France  hailed  the  news  that  the  Peace  with 
England  was  about  to  be  signed  with  delight.  To 
many  of  Maman  Campan^s  children  this  event  meant 
a  joyful  meeting  with  some  long-absent  relative,  a 
beloved  father  or  brother. 

Mme  Campan  describes  the  scene  enacted  at  Saint- 
Germain  when  the  news  was  received  : — 

"  What  an  event !  and  how  it  crowns  Bonaparte's 
exploits !  Nothing  is  more  beautiful,  nothing  can  be 
grander,  than  the  spectacle  of  a  warrior  who  has 
vanquished  nearly  the  whole  of  the  universe  laying 
down  his  arms  to  grasp  the  olive  branch.  .  .  .  How 
children  realize  the  grandeur  of  such  a  deed,  although 
the  childish  lips  can  scarcely  express  their  sensations, 
^  The  preliminary  articles  of  that  Peace  were  signed  October  i,  1801. 

252 


AN  ENCHANTING  SIGHT 

and  although  the  lack  of  words  or  timidity  prevents 
them  voicing  their  feelings !  One  of  my  pupils  cried, 
with  tears  streaming  down  her  cheeks  :  '  My  brother 
is  coming  home  ! '  Another  exclaimed  :  '  My  father 
will  not  be  obliged  to  join  the  army  now  ! '  Felicite 
Fodoas  said :  '  My  mother  will  no  longer  feel  the 
pinch  of  poverty.'  .  .  .  We  women  can  neither  be 
politicians  nor  warriors.  Woe  to  empires  when 
women  interfere  with  the  affairs  of  the  State  !  .  .  . 
You  know  how  I  love  to  see  my  pupils  patriotic.  The 
day  after  receiving  the  news  of  the  Peace,  the  entire 
garden  was  illuminated  ;  there  was  a  ball  in  the  big 
rotunda,  charming  fireworks  and  creams  and  tartlets 
for  supper.  In  order  that  the  pupils  might  be 
perfectly  at  their  ease,  and  that  the  door  should  be 
shut  on  calumny,  I  invited  nobody — not  even  my  old 
friends.  The  ofirls  were  all  dressed  in  white ;  the 
brightly  lighted  garden  was  full  of  the  happy  little 
souls.     It  was  really  an  enchanting  sight.  ..." 

In  consequence  of  various  reports  furnished  by 
visitors  to  La  Malmaison  and  the  Tuileries,  Mme 
Campan  wrote  the  following  letter  to  **  Petite  Bonne," 
who,  alas  !  was  about  to  commit  the  greatest  mistake 
of  her  life,  and  marry  a  man  totally  unfitted  for  her  : — 

"  I  can  no  longer  keep  silent,  my  dear  Hortense. 
Owing  to  certain  hints  dropped  by  your  Mama,  and 
also  to  my  own  observations,  I  fancy  you  are  about 
to  form  a  connection  of  which  all  Europe  will  approve. 
...  I  saw  that  there  was  a  coolness  between  you  and 
the  citoyen  Louis,  which  had  made  me  renounce  a 
long-cherished  desire.  I  had  noticed  that  you  both 
possessed  certain  tastes  which,  when  shared  in 
common,  assure  a  happy  married  life  to  their  owners ; 

253 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

you  suit  each  other,  and  you  would  not  be  dull 
together  in  the  quietest  retreat  if  your  tastes  or 
necessity  forced  you  to  retire  from  the  world.  You 
will  be  the  link  between  two  families  which  should 
form  but  one,  and  which  are  both  dear  to  France.  I 
therefore  predict  that  you  will  love  each  other  very 
dearly  and  for  ever,  because  the  sentiment  which 
springs  from  conviction  is  the  only  lasting  one.  .  .  . 
You  know  that  I  have  always  liked  M.  Louis.  You 
blamed  him  once  for  being  a  woman-hater  ;  the  First 
Consul,  who  knows  how  to  find  remedies  for  all  the 
evils  under  the  sun,  has  in  his  wisdom  chosen  the  only 
woman  who  can  cure  his  brother  of  this  failing.  You 
will  be  a  happy  wife,  my  dear  angel ;  one  does  not 
need  to  be  a  witch  to  predict  this,  but  I  tell  it  to  you 
as  your  dearest  friend,  who,  for  more  than  three  years, 
has  had  but  one  wish.  Three  years  ago  Colonel 
Louis  said  a  very  strange  thing  to  me  one  day  while 
you  were  eating  your  modest  school-fare  by  my  side, 
and  it  made  me  think  that  he  shared  my  wish.  I 
have  not  seen  the  citoyen  Louis  very  often,  but  I 
know  him  quite  well  enough  to  see  that  it  would  be  a 
very  difficult  matter  to  find  him  a  suitable  wife.  You 
are  the  wife  I  would  order  for  him  if  such  articles 
could  be  bespoken.  .  .  ." 

"  Louis  Bonaparte,"  says  Bourrienne  in  his 
Memoirs,  **  allowed  other  people  to  choose  a  wife  for 
him.  Hortense  had  hitherto  avoided  him  on  every 
occasion  ;  her  indifference  towards  him  was  no  less 
marked  than  his  towards  her.  These  feelings  of 
indifference  endured  until  the  end  of  the  chapter." 

Joseph  and  Lucien  Bonaparte,  however,  affirm 
that   their   brother    Louis   was   deeply  in   love  with 

254 


A  LIGHTNING  MARRIAGE 

Josephine's  pretty  daughter.  Louis  was  always  a  shy, 
nervous  man,  afraid  or  ashamed  of  showing  his  feel- 
ings, so  perhaps  they  were  right.  Be  this  as  it  may, 
Napoleon,  having  chosen  a  wife  for  his  brother, 
clenched  the  matter  by  hurrying  up  the  marriage.  It 
was  in  this  same  month  of  October  1801  that  the 
First  Consul  determined  to  send  his  brother-in-law, 
General  Leclerc,  for  whose  miserably  unhappy 
marriage  he  was  partly  responsible,  on  an  expedition 
to  San  Domingo. 

Mile  Ducrest  gives,  in  the  following  words,  an 
amusing  account  of  how  Napoleon  brought  about 
another  of  those  lightning  marriages  which  frequently 
ended  in  disaster  : — 

'*  Bonaparte  wished  to  confide  the  command  of  the 
troops  to  his  brother-in-law,  General  Leclerc,  who  had 
married  Pauline  Bonaparte.  He  sent  for  him  to  come 
to  his  study,  and  told  him  his  intentions.  General 
Leclerc  said  : — 

'' '  I  should  be  happy  to  serve  France  again  ;  but, 
General,  a  sacred  duty  keeps  me  here.' 

'*  'Your  love  for  Pauletta?     She  shall  accompany 
you,  it  will  do  her  good.     The  air  of  Paris  is  bad  for  ' 
her  ;  it  is  impregnated  with  coquetry  of  which  she  has 
no  need,  so  she  shall  go  with  you.     That  matter  is 
setded.' 

'*  *  I  should  be  very  sorry  to  have  to  leave  her,  but 
that  is  not  sufficient  reason  for  me  to  refuse  an  honour- 
able post.  My  wife,  should  she  remain  here,  would 
be  with  her  affectionate  relations.  So  I  should  have 
no  anxiety  on  her  account ;  but  it  is  for  my  good 
sister's  sake  that  I  am  obliged  to  decline  what  would 
give  me  the  greatest  pleasure  on  any  other  occasion. 

255 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

She  is  young  and  pretty  ;  her  education  is  not  yet 
completed.  I  have  no  dowry  to  give  her.  Ought  I 
to  leave  her  without  any  support,  when  my  absence 
may  be  prolonged,  unending?  My  brothers  are 
absent,  so  I  must  remain  here.  I  refer  the  matter  to 
you,  you  who  love  your  family  so  dearly — General, 
can  I  act  otherwise  ? ' 

"  '  No,  certainly  not.  We  must  find  a  husband 
for  her  without  more  ado — to-morrow,  for  instance, 
and  then  you  can  start  immediately.' 

**  *  But  I  repeat,  I  have  no  fortune  and * 

"'Well?  am  I  not  here?  Go  and  make  your 
preparations,  mon  cher.  Your  sister  shall  be  married 
to-morrow — I  don't  yet  know  to  whom,  but  that 
doesn't  matter  ;  she  shall  be  married,  and  well  married, 
too.' 

''  *  But ' 

"  '  I  think  I  have  spoken  clearly,  so  don't  make 
any  remarks.' 

**  General  Leclerc,  accustomed  like  all  the  other 
generals  to  consider  as  his  master  him  who,  but  a 
short  time  before,  had  been  his  equal,  left  the  room 
without  another  word. 

"  A  few  minutes  later.  General  Davout  entered 
the  First  Consul's  study,  and  told  him  that  he  had 
come  to  inform  him  of  the  fact  that  he  was  about  to 
be  married. 

*' '  To  Mile  Leclerc  ?  I  think  it  a  very  suitable 
match.' 

*'  *  No,  General,  to  Mme ' 

"  *  To  Mile  Leclerc,'  Napoleon  interrupted,  laying 
stress  upon  the  name.  '  Not  only  is  the  marriage 
suitable,  but  I  wish  it  to  take  place  immediately.' 

256 


Copyright  by\ 


Pauline  Bonaparte. 

From  a  painting  by  Le  Fevre. 


[Biaun  &'  Co. 


THE  STORY  OF  DAVOUT'S  COURTSHIP 

**  *  I  have  long  loved  Mme ;  she  is  now  free, 

and  nothing  shall  make  me  give  her  up/ 

**' Nothing  except  my  will,'  retorted  the  First 
Consul,  fixing  his  eagle  eye  upon  his  visitor.  *  You 
will  now  go  straight  to  Mme  Campan's  at  Saint- 
Germain,  and  you  will  ask  to  see  your  future  wife. 
You  will  be  introduced  to  her  by  her  brother.  General 
Leclerc,  who  is  now  talking  to  my  wife.  He  will  go 
with  you.  Mile  Aimee  will  come  up  to  Paris  this 
evening.  You  will  order  the  wedding-presents,  which 
must  be  handsome,  as  I  am  going  to  act  father  to  the 
young  lady.  I  will  see  about  the  dowry  and  the 
trousseau,  and  the  marriage  shall  be  celebrated  as 
soon  as  the  necessary  formalities  have  been  fulfilled. 
I  shall  take  care  that  they  are  simplified.  You  have 
heard  what  I  have  just  said ;  you  must  obey.' 

"  Having  finished  this  long  speech,  which  he  uttered 
very  fast  in  his  own  particular  tone  of  voice.  Napoleon 
rang  the  bell  and  gave  orders  that  Leclerc  should 
be  sent  for. 

**  No  sooner  did  he  see  him  than  he  cried  out : — 

"'Well!  wasn't  I  right .'^  Here  is  your  sister's 
husband.  Go  down  to  Saint-Germain  together,  and 
don't  let  me  see  you  again  until  everything  has  been 
settled.     I  hate  discussions  over  money  matters.' 

**  The  two  generals,  equally  astonished,  left  the 
room  in  obedience  to  his  command.  Notwithstanding 
his  very  unamiable  and  brusque  character.  General 
Davout  obeyed  humbly.  On  arriving  at  Mme 
Campan's  he  was  introduced  to  Mile  Leclerc,  who, 
probably  because  she  had  been  flung  at  his  head  and 
because  he  could  not  get  out  of  marrying  her,  he 
thought  very  insipid.  The  interview,  as  we  can 
R  257 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

imagine,  was  very  solemn,  but  at  last  everything  was 
arranged.  The  marriage  took  place  a  few  days  later." 
The  bride,  Aimde  Leclerc,  and  her  younger  sister, 
who  afterwards  married  General  F riant,  were  prot^g^es 
of  Mme  Bonaparte.  Louise  Aimde  Julie  Leclerc  was 
as  pretty  as  an  angel,  and  her  simplicity  and  modesty 
remained  unchanged  through  good  and  evil  fortune. 
Just  before  her  marriage,  Aimde,  who  had  gone  up 
to  Paris  to  buy  her  trousseau,  wrote  a  heart-broken 
letter  to  Maman  Campan,  in  which  she  probably 
hinted  that  the  future  looked  very  black.  Maman 
Campan  replies  : — 

*'  My  dear  Aim6e, — I  now  perceive  how  dearly  I 
love  you,  for  I  cried  most  bitterly  when  I  got  your 
letter  in  which  you  apprised  me  of  the  fact  that  the 
date  of  your  marriage  had  been  fixed.  People  speak 
very  highly  of  General  Davout.  Providence  probably 
destined  you  for  each  other.  You  will  do  well  to 
leave  Paris  where  men  have  only  too  much  reason  to 
fear  for  the  reputations  of  their  wives  and  daughters, 
and  to  go  and  live  in  an  atmosphere  where  you  will 
cherish  work  and  learn  to  study  your  own  faults ;  for 
you  know,  my  dear  Aim^e,  how  anxious  I  am  for  you 
to  become  acquainted  with  the  human  heart  and  our 
duties.  So  I  am  assured  of  your  success,  my  good 
friend  ;  you  are  one  of  those  who  will  realize  what 
people  are  pleased  to  call  my  ideal,  that  is  to  say  : 
you  will  endeavour  to  please  everybody  while  making 
one  man  perfectly  happy ;  you  will  use  all  seemly 
means  to  please,  but  only  in  order  to  give  your  hus- 
band the  satisfaction  of  possessing  an  amiable  wife. 
Common  sense  united  to  a  kind  heart  are  necessary 

258 


THE  ROAD  TO  HAPPINESS 

to  ensure  fidelity  in  love.  Do  you  think  a  husband 
can  ever  be  unfaithful  to  a  wife  whose  manners  are 
graceful  and  retiring,  who  dresses  tastefully  but 
modestly  and  economically ;  whose  mornings  are 
occupied  in  attending  to  household  duties  and  to 
necessary  cleanliness,  and  who  in  the  evening  accords 
a  polite  and  friendly  reception  to  her  friends ;  who 
cultivates  her  mind  by  reading  useful  books  and 
divides  her  leisure  between  her  work-box  and  her 
palette ;  who  has  no  whims  and  recognizes  man's 
superiority,  and  only  reserves  to  herself  the  modest  and 
amiable  right  to  do  the  honours  of  her  home  ?  .  . 
To  live  absolutely  for  the  husband  of  one's  choice, 
to  appreciate  exterior  qualities  and  charms  in  order 
to  be  more  desirable  in  his  opinion,  never  to  display 
them  to  the  world  without  thinking  of  him,  that  is  the 
road  to  happiness  and  a  pleasant  one  along  which 
to  travel !  .  .  .  "  (Oh  !  Maman  Campan !  Maman 
Campan !  how  your  old  heart  must  have  ached  as 
you  wrote  those  lines  !)  *'  The  general  will  love  you 
more  dearly  every  day  ;  he  knows  the  world,  he  has 
had  his  own  troubles  ;  he  will  find  in  you  fresh 
consolation  and  new  pleasures.  ..." 

It  was  said  that  General  Davout  did  not  care  for 
his  wife  at  first  and  that  he  made  no  attempt  to  do  so. 
However,  if  it  is  true  that  he  was  contemplating 
marriage  with  another  lady  when  General  Bonaparte 
ordered  him  to  espouse  Aimde  Leclerc,  it  is  a  wonder 
that  the  lightning  marriage  did  not  end  in  a  lightning 
divorce. 

Davout  was  really  a  brave,  good-natured,  kind- 
hearted    fellow — did     not     Stendhal    say    of    him : 

259 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

"  Marshal  Davout  was  a  great  man  to  whom  justice 
has  never  yet  been  rendered,"  and  was  it  not  Napoleon 
who,  in  a  moment  of  peril,  cried  :  "  Ah  !  if  only  Davout 
had  been  there  "  ?  and  he  probably  realized  that  his 
young  bride  was  not  to  blame  in  the  unfortunate 
affair,  for  the  year  after  his  marriage  he  wrote  her 
the  most  charming  letters  in  which  he  styles  himself 
ton  petit  Louis,  calls  her  ma  petite  Aimde  and  swears 
he  is  jealous — which  was  a  fact  and  a  proof  that  he 
loved  her. 

While  on  service  abroad,  he  would  send  her 
presents  of  bulbs  for  her  garden,  to  which  she  was 
devoted,  muslins,  China,  etc.,  and  in  his  letters  urged 
her  to  purchase  jewels  and  to  go  out  into  society  more 
frequently  in  order  to  prevent  people  saying  that  she 
lived  a  life  of  retirement  at  his  command. 

One  of  Mme  Davout  s  first  purchases  after  her 
marriage  was  for  her  old  governess  ;  it  consisted  of  a 
magnificent  China  dinner-service.  I n  gratitude  for  this 
kindness,  Mme  Campan  had  a  lock  of  her  own  hair 
set  in  a  ring,  which  she  begged  her  chere  Aimde  to 
keep  in  memory  of  those  peaceful  years  at  Saint- 
Germain.  Davout  was  fond  of  saying  of  himself  that 
he  had  the  brain  of  a  general  and  the  heart  of  a 
common  citoyen  ;  for  he  hated  war  both  in  his  own 
home  and  abroad,  was  a  most  affectionate  son-in-law, 
and  always  treated  his  wife's  relations  as  if  they  were 
his  own. 

It  is  recorded  of  Mme  Davout  that  she  was  rather 
an  indolent  woman  ;  she  had  one  habit  in  especial  which 
was  most  distasteful  to  her  soldier  husband  :  she  was 
never  punctual  and  was  always  late  for  meals.  After 
waiting  until  the  soup  was  cold,  General  Davout  used 

260 


CUPID  VISITS  SAINT-GERMAIN 

to  send  one  of  his  children  to  tell  their  Mama  that 
the  dinner-hour  was  past,  while  he  would  pace  up 
and  down  the  dining-room  looking  at  his  watch  and 
wondering  why  she  could  never  manage  to  be  punctual. 
But  this  was  the  most  he  ever  did.  As  soon  as  his 
wife  appeared,  he  would  give  her  his  arm  with  an 
indulgent  smile  and  hand  her  to  her  place.  Husbands 
in  France  are  long-suffering  creatures. 

In  November  Mme  Campan  assisted  at  the 
marriage  of  another  of  her  pupils,  F^licitd  Fodoas 
marrying  the  citoyen  Savary  ;  this  time  it  was  a  love 
match,  for  Maman  Campan  wrote  to  tell  Hortense  that 
**the  pair  were  very  much  in  love  with  one  another." 

Fdicitd  Fodoas- Barbazan  was  a  distant  relative 
of  Mme  Bonaparte,  who  probably  had  something  to 
do  with  the  girl  going  to  Mme  Campan's  school. 
Felicite  was  a  handsome  brunette  with  a  fine  figure, 
jet  black  hair  and  a  generous  disposition,  which  she 
showed  when  she  refused  to  neglect  Josephine  after 
the  latter's  divorce.  Unfortunately  F^licit^,  soon 
after  her  marriage,  took  it  into  her  head  that  she 
should  like  to  become  a  blonde  and  so  she  became 
one,  but  with  such  disastrous  results  that,  when 
dressed  up  to  appear  at  the  imperial  Court,  every- 
body noticed  a  strong  resemblance  to  Aunt  Sally  of 
joyous  memory. 

In  the  following  month  of  November,  Mme 
Campan  gave  a  little  party  in  honour  of  the  two 
brides,  Mmes  Davout  and  Savary,  when  all  the  pupils 
drank  tea  with  their  former  schoolfellows  and  ate 
unlimited  tartlets  and  creams.  The  only  men  present 
were  the  two  bridegrooms,  Jerome  Bonaparte,  Eugene 
de  Beauharnais  and  Henri  Campan. 

261 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

General  Davout's  first  child  was  a  daughter ;  he 
must  have  been  somewhat  disappointed,  but  the  only 
occasion  on  which  he  voiced  his  regret  was  once 
when  dandling  the  little  child  on  his  knees  he  kissed 
her  on  the  forehead  saying:  **Why  were  you  not 
a  boy?"  However,  he  reprimanded  his  cousin, 
d'Avout  de  Montjalin,  when  the  latter  told  him 
that  his  wife  had  unfortunately  just  given  birth  to 
a  daughter,  with  the  remark  that  a  father  should  be 
as  fond  of  his  daughters  as  of  his  sons.  When 
another  little  daughter  was  born  in  1802,  Davout 
was  the  only  member  of  the  family  who  did  not  call 
her  Mademoiselle  de  trop. 

When  at  last  a  son  was  born  to  the  brave  Davout, 
of  course  he  was  baptized  Louis  Napoleon  ;  but  he 
went  by  the  name  of  Monsieur  Non,  from  a  baby- 
habit  he  had  of  shaking  his  curls  and  crying  Non  I 
non !  Alas !  little  Monsieur  Non  died  while  still  a 
babe,  as  did  the  two  eldest  daughters.  However, 
another  son,  Paul,  soon  came  to  fill  the  empty  cradle. 
In  a  dear  letter  to  his  wife,  Davout  says :  **  Kiss 
Paul's  tiny  hands  and  feet.  I  charge  him  to  embrace 
his  little  Mama  with  all  his  heart,  and  to  beg  her  to 
keep  up  her  courage  during  the  absence  of  her  best 
friend." 

In  181 1  the  third  son,  called  le  tout  petit  Louis,  or 
Louis  B  out  on- de- Rose  (Rosebud),  was  born. 


262 


CHAPTER   XIII 

Mme  Campan  is  able  to  put  aside  "  a  crust  of  bread  "  for  her  old  age — 
Eliza  Monroe— The  young  ladies  of  Saint-Germain  embroider  a 
map  of  the  French  Republic — Hortense  de  Beauharnais  marries 
Louis  Bonaparte — The  Peace  of  Amiens  is  signed — Mme  Moreau 
again  arouses  the  First  Consul's  wrath — Mme  Bonaparte  finds 
a  husband  for  one  of  Mme  Campan's  nieces — Birth  of  Hortense's 
first  child— The  happy  days  of  Mme  Campan— Another  of  her 
nieces  marries — The  Emperor  asks  Mme  Campan  to  help  him  form 
his  Court — The  Emperor  and  the  Orphans  of  Austerlitz — Stephanie 
de  Beauharnais  is  married  to  the  hereditary  prince  of  Baden. 

In  November  1801,  Mme  Campan  wrote  to  her 
favourite  Hortense  the  following  letter,  the  first  part 
of  which  is  written  in  English,  and  is  a  very  credit- 
able performance,  considering  the  fact  that  the  writer 
never  set  foot  on  the  white  cliffs  of  la  perfide 
Albion  : — 

**  I  send  you,  my  dear  Hortense,  a  book  translated 
from  the  french  of  M.  Saint- Lambert  into  english. 
The  translator  is  one  of  M.  Thompson,  who  was 
formerly  master  of  the  english  language  in  my 
school.  Saint- Lambert's  maxims  have  been  injustly 
and  severely  judged  by  those  who  disaprove  moral 
principles  separated  from  religious  principles,  and  in 
his  work  there  is  not  a  word  about  religion.  The 
man  whose  heart  full  with  these  maxims  is  knowing 
perfectly  all  his  duties  as  a  father,  as  a  son,  husband, 
and  citizen,  is  easily  convinced  of  the  necessity  of 
being  a  good  Christian.     You  may  then  read  this 

263 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

work  as  being  one  of  the  best  of  this  age,  and  your 
english  master  will  tell  you  if  he  thinks  it  has  been 
translated  with  exactness  and  a  sufficient  eloquence.^ 
— I  write  English  fluently,  my  dear  Hortense.  Let 
your  master  tell  you  what  he  thinks  of  my  English, 
my  spelling,  and  my  grammar.  I  should  be  very  glad 
to  hear  his  opinion.  .  .  .  This  morning  I  had  a  visit 
from  Lady  Care  ^  (sic).  She  seems  to  think  that  her 
little  girl  is  too  young  to  come  to  my  school. 
Reassure  her  as  to  this  matter,  my  dear  Hortense. 
I  and  Mile  Vaucher  will  devote  ourselves  to  the  child. 
I  will  undo  all  the  spoiling,  and  send  her  home  a 
charming  little  girl  in  three  or  four  months  ;  I  give 
you  my  word.  Between  ourselves  (for  I  speak  to 
you  as  if  you  were  my  dear  niece)  it  is  very  important 
for  me  that  the  English,  and  in  fact  all  foreigners, 
should  learn  the  way  to  Saint-Germain,  and  you  will 
be  doing  me  a  great  service  if  you  can  persuade  them 
to  do  so.  The  Parisian  schools  are  always  intriguing 
and  are  for  ever  trying  to  prevent  the  fact  being  known 
that  my  establishment  is  the  most  perfect  of  its  kind  ; 
so  that  I  need  to  be  well  supported  and  praised  by 
my  faithful  pupils,  and  nobody  is  better  able  to  do 
that  than  my  dear  Hortense." 

The  winter  of  1801-02  was  a  terribly  severe  one. 
Bread  became  fabulously  dear,  "which  event,"  says 
Mme  Campan,  '*  means  that  my  baker  s  bill  will  be 

^  The  rest  of  the  letter  is  written  in  French. 

*  Mme  Campan  probably  means  Lady  Cahir,  later  Countess  of 
Glengall,  who  was  in  Paris  about  this  time  and  whom  Miss  Mary  Berry 
frequently  mentions.  Mme  Campan  displays  the  same  indifference 
towards  the  spelling  of  foreign  names  as  all  her  contemporaries.  The 
name  Kinnaird,  frequently  mentioned  in  her  letters,  is  spelt  in  six 
different  ways :  Kynaird,  Kinair,  Kinnaird,  Kinaird,  Kennaird,  and 
Kinaid. 

264 


SOME  OF  MME  CAMPAN'S  PUPILS 

2000  livres  more   a   year ;    however,    the    Peace   of 
Amiens  will  set  matters  right." 

Notwithstanding  this  fact  Mme  Campan  was  able 
during  the  next  three  years  to  put  aside  from  8000  to 
10,000  livres,  **a  crust  of  bread,"  she  calls  it,  *•  which 
has  surely  been  well  earned." 

In  December  1801,  General  Victor  brought  his 
little  daughter  Victorine  to  study  with  Mme  Campan. 
Among  her  fellow-pupils  were  Nelly  Bourjolie  (later 
maid-of-honour  to  Stephanie  de  Beauharnais  when  the 
latter  became  grand-duchess  of  Baden) ;  Antoinette 
de  Mackau  (later  Mme  Wathier  de  Saint-Alphonse)  ; 
Eliza  Monroe,  the  daughter  of  the  originator  of  the 
celebrated  Monroe  Doctrine,^  a  great  friend  of  Miss 
Paterson,  Jerome  Bonaparte's  first  wife,  and  one  of 
Mme  Campan's  most  grateful  pupils  ;  Mile  Hervas  de 
Menara,*  the  daughter  of  a  rich  banker  of  that  name, 
and  at  that  time  **the  prettiest  little  creature  which 
has  ever  been  confided  to  my  care ;  she  is  witty, 
sensible,  and  good-natured." 

In  December  1801  these  young  ladies  embroidered 
a   map   of  the    French  Republic,  after   which    Mile 

'^  James  Monroe  (i 758-1 831)  was  a  volunteer  during  the  War  of 
Independence  ;  he  fought  very  bravely  at  the  battle  of  Brandywine  and 
was  made  colonel  by  Washington.  After  the  war  he  was  appointed 
Minister  Plenipotentiary  to  the  French  Government,  but  was  recalled 
from  this  mission  in  1796  by  President  Washington,  who  blamed  him 
extremely  severely  for  having  submitted  too  humbly  to  the  overbearing 
policy  of  the  Directoire.  He  was,  however,  sent  to  London  in  the  same 
capacity.  He  was  instrumental  in  obtaining  Louisiana  for  the  United 
States,  and  in  18 17  he  was  made  President  of  the  United  States,  being 
re-elected  in  1821.  He  negotiated  the  purchase  of  Florida  and 
endeavoured  to  put  an  end  to  slavery. 

2  Mile  Hervas  de  Menara  eventually  married  Duroc,  Hortense's 
first  love,  and  perhaps  the  only  man  for  whom  Hortense  ever 
really  cared. 

265 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMP  AN 

Cd^nie  Dupuis,  the  daughter  of  one  of  the  richest 
linen-manufacturers  of  Saint-Quentin,  wrote  the 
names  of  the  workers  in  her  best  copy-book  hand- 
writing behind  the  map,  which  was  then  presented  to 
the  First  Consul  as  a  token  of  affection  and  esteem. 

Mme  Campan  used  in  her  old  age  to  tell  an 
anecdote  of  how,  while  walking  in  the  beautiful  forest 
of  Saint-Germain  with  Mr.  Monroe  and  his  little 
daughter  Eliza,  in  those  days  when  France  seemed 
drifting  hither  and  thither  at  the  mercy  of  any  stray 
adventurer  with  a  gift  for  despotism,  the  future 
President  of  the  United  States  remarked  : — 

*'  Fortune  lies  in  the  gutter ;  anybody  who  takes 
the  trouble  to  bend  down  can  pick  it  up ! " 

He  then  went  on  to  say  what  a  much  finer  country 
America  was  than  France,  whereupon  little  Eliza 
burst  in  with  : — 

**  Yes,  papa,  but  we  haven't  any  roads  like  this  " — 
pointing  to  the  fine,  smooth  road  bordered  with  mag- 
nificent trees  along  which  they  were  then  walking. 

"  That's  true,"  replied  Mr.  Monroe  ;  "  our  country 
may  be  likened  to  a  new  house,  we  lack  many  things, 
but  we  possess  the  most  precious  of  all — liberty  !  " 

It  was  on  January  4,  1802,  that  Hortense  de 
Beauharnais  and  Louis  Bonaparte  were  married  in 
the  little  hotel  in  the  rue  de  la  Victoire,  Paris,  formerly 
occupied  by  General  Bonaparte  before  he  moved  to 
the  Petit-  Luxembourg  ;  when  a  religious  ceremony 
united  Caroline  and  Murat  at  the  same  time  in  the 
bonds  of  holy  matrimony,  for  the  marriage  of 
January  20,  1800,  had  been  merely  a  civil  ceremony. 
On  this  occasion  Cardinal  Caprera  blessed  the  two 
couples.     Mme  Campan,  who  was  present,  noticed, 

266 


SIGNING  OF  THE  PEACE  OF  AMIENS 

with  many  misgivings  for  the  future,  that  her  **  Petite 
Bonne's  "  eyes  were  frequently  dimmed  with  tears. 

Hortense's  marriage  made  no  difference  in  her 
affection  for  her  kind  friend.  It  was  she  who,  two 
days  after  the  signing  of  the  Peace  of  Amiens,^  sent 
the  joyful  news  to  Saint-Germain,  whereupon  Mme 
Campan  wrote  thanking  her  :  **  You  are  a  little  angel 
to  send  me  news  of  the  signing  of  the  Peace.  Long 
live  Bonaparte !  will  always  be  the  cry  of  every 
honest-minded  person  who  loves  not  only  his  country, 
but  also  humanity.  What  a  position  he  has  taken 
up !  He  has  brought  peace  to  the  entire  universe. 
In  the  shadow  of  what  a  great  man  you  now  live ! 
What  a  glorious  name  you  bear,  my  dear  child !  .  .  . 
I  gave  the  children  a  holiday  to-day  in  honour  of  the 
Peace.  The  elder  girls  had  a  tea-party  with  a  big 
gateau  de plomb'^  {sic).     It  was  a  beautiful  fete!  .  .  ." 

On  the  occasion  of  the  promulgation  of  the 
Concordat  in  the  spring  of  1802,  a  solemn  Te  Deum 
was  sung  in  the  cathedral  of  Notre  Dame.  Naturally 
there  was  a  great  demand  for  seats  to  view  the 
ceremony,  and,  as  is  usually  the  case  on  such 
occasions,  those  who  had  the  smallest  claims  to  the 
best  places  were  the  most  exacting.  Mme  Campan  s 
former  pupil  Mme  Moreau  and  her  mother,  Mme 
Hulot,  being  unable  to  obtain  what  they  considered 
suitable  places,  determined  to  go  early  so  as  to  take 
the  pick  of  the  unreserved  seats.  Now  the  gallery 
had  been  reserved  for  Mme  Bonaparte  and  her 
numerous  suite,  so  that  she  would  not  be  obliged  to 
come  to  the  building  until  quite  near  the  hour  fixed 

^  Signed  March  25,  1802. 
'  The  good  lady  probably  meant  plum-cake. 
267 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

for  the  ceremony.  Mme  Hulot  was  the  first  to 
remark  that  the  gallery  was  still  empty ;  so  she  told 
her  daughter  to  keep  close,  and  elbowed  her  way 
through  the  crowd  until  she  arrived  panting  and  per- 
spiring at  the  foot  of  the  stair  leading  to  the  delect- 
able land.  Here,  however,  stood  a  soldier,  who 
refused  to  allow  her  to  occupy  the  seats,  which  he 
informed  her  were  reserved  for  Mme  Bonaparte  and 
her  suite.  But  Mme  Hulot  had  not  played  the  part 
of  mother-in-law  for  some  years  without  having  learnt 
some  of  the  tricks  of  the  trade.  Words  are  wasted 
on  such  occasions.  A  well-directed  dig  in  the  ribs 
made  the  sentry  totter  for  a  moment ;  before  he  could 
recover  his  equilibrium  the  two  females  pushed  by 
him,  scuttled  up  the  staircase  and  plumped  themselves 
down  on  the  red  velvet  chairs  reserved  for  Mme 
Bonaparte  and  Madame  Mere,  And  here  they  were 
still  sitting,  deaf  alike  to  prayers  and  threats — the 
First  Consul  had  heard  the  scuffling  in  the  gallery — 
when  Mme  Bonaparte  appeared  upon  the  scene ;  she 
was  sensible  enough  to  take  no  notice  of  the  two  ill- 
bred  creatures  and  to  seat  herself  at  the  end  of  an 
empty  bench. 

Mme  Campan  made  a  rule,  after  the  signing  of 
the  Peace  of  Amiens,  to  give  a  gratuitous  education 
to  ten  poor  girls.  In  this  same  year  (1802)  she  was 
able  to  lay  aside  20,000  francs,  notwithstanding  the 
fact  that  she  had  to  have  one  hundred  pupils,  each 
paying  1200  francs  a-year,  before  she  could  pay  all 
her  expenses.  That  Peace,  however,  was  not  of  long 
duration  :  with  the  first  rumours  of  war  ten  English 
misses  who  were  at  Saint-Germain  were  fetched  home 
by  their  parents,  while  some  others  who  had  only  just 

268 


THE  BRAVEST  OF  THE  BRAVE 

landed  at  Boulogne  and  Calais,  and  were  preparing 
to  start  for  Saint-Germain,  took  the  next  boat  back  to 
England. 

Among  the  handsome  women  and  girls  who 
adorned  the  Consular  Court  was  Mile  Egld  Augui^ 
Mme  Campan's  niece  and  the  daughter  of  poor  Mme 
Augui^  who  had  taken  her  own  life  rather  than 
perish  by  the  guillotine.  The  First  Consul  had 
given  the  widower  a  fairly  lucrative  post,  which 
enabled  him  and  his  two  daughters  to  live  comfort- 
ably at  the  chateau  of  Grignon,  near  Versailles. 
Mme  Bonaparte  took  an  interest  in  the  girls,  and 
determined  to  find  husbands  for  them.  She  had  not 
far  to  seek  for  Egld  ;  for  General  Ney,  miscalled  '*  the 
Bravest  of  the  Brave,"  fell  in  love  with  the  girl's 
sweet  face  on  their  first  meeting  in  January  1802. 
An  invitation  to  Grignon  in  the  following  month  was 
easily  obtained  ;  not  so  the  favour  of  the  pretty  Egld, 
however,  for  Ney's  appearance  was  against  him. 
First  of  all,  he  was  not  a  carpet-knight,  and  disdained 
the  small-talk  which  was  considered  suitable  for  the 
ladies  of  the  Consular  Court,  and  then  his  ploughboy 
appearance  was  further  spoilt  by  bunches  of  red 
whiskers ;  these,  however,  he  sacrificed  when  he  dis- 
covered that  Mile  Egld  did  not  share  his  admiration 
for  them. 

In  the  month  of  May,  Mme  Bonaparte,  with  Ney's 
consent,  wrote  to  M.  Augui6,  saying  that  she  hoped 
he  would  bestow  Mile  Egl^'s  hand  on  Ney,  who  was 
well  fitted  in  every  way  to  be  her  companion  through 
life.  On  this  occasion,  Mile  Egl^'s  wishes  were  as 
completely  ignored  as  those  of  Emilie  de  Beauharnais 
and  Aimde  Leclerc  had  been  on  similar  occasions. 

269 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

Nevertheless  on  July  27  the  marriage- settlement 
was  made  and  signed.  Ney's  fortune  consisted  of 
the  property  of  La  Petite  Malgrange,  near  Nancy, 
valued  at  80,000  francs,  besides  12,000  francs  in 
money  and  furniture  ;  Mile  Egld  possessed  a  fourth 
share  in  land  situated  in  San  Domingo,  representing 
an  income  of  5000  francs,  a  dowry  of  60,000  francs, 
and  a  handsome  trousseau.  When  Ney  gave  his 
fiancee  his  first  present,  always  the  most  valued,  he 
apologized  for  its  meanness  in  the  following  touching 
little  speech : — 

'*  I  cannot  offer  you  pearls  and  diamonds,  but 
here  is  my  sword,  which  I  have  always  maintained 
should  be  used  to  win  glory  and  not  riches." 

On  August  6,  the  chapel  belonging  to  the  chateau 
of  Grignon,  decorated  under  the  painter  Isabey's 
superintendence  with  draperies,  flowers,  foliage,  and 
candles,  was  filled  with  a  crowd  of  distinguished 
guests  assembled  to  witness  the  marriage  of  Egl6 
Augui6  and  Michel  Ney,  the  bride  being  dressed 
very  simply  in  white,  according  to  the  sensible  French 
custom,  the  bridegroom  resplendent  in  full  uniform, 
and  wearing  a  jewelled  sword,  a  wedding-gift  from 
that  most  generous  friend.  Napoleon.  A  quaint  note 
was  struck  by  the  presence  of  two  old  farm-servants 
who  were  celebrating  their  golden  wedding  in  new 
clothes  provided  by  the  bride  and  bridegroom.  It 
had  been  Ney's  wish  that  these  honest  souls  should 
share  in  the  festivities,  "for,"  said  he,  "their  fifty 
years  of  happy  married  life  would  be  a  good  omen  for 
his  wedding,  and  they  would  remind  him  of  his 
humble  origin."^ 

^  The  Bravest  of  the  Brave ^  by  A.  Hilliard  Atteridge. 
270 


THE  HAPPY  DAYS  OF  MME  CAMP  AN 

Of  course  Maman  Campan,  as  aunt  and  governess 
of  the  bride,  was  one  of  the  most  honoured  guests. 
Various  entertainments,  such  as  dancing,  illuminations, 
fireworks,  a  concert  performed  by  some  peasant-girls, 
etc.,  amused  the  relatives  and  friends.  During  a  pause 
in  all  this  merry-making  the  happy  pair  were  invited 
to  enter  a  rustic  hut  in  which  Isabey  and  Mme 
Campan,  disguised  as  gipsies,  offered  to  tell  the  bride's 
fortune,  which  Egld's  aunt  prophesied  would  be  as 
cloudless  as  the  blue  dome  of  heaven  above  the 
pair. 

In  the  month  of  October  1802,^  Mme  Campan 
learnt  that  "Petite  Bonne"  had  given  birth  to  her 
first  child,  Napoleon  Louis.  How  human  is  the 
following  letter  written  by  Maman  Campan,  whose 
heart  was  not  too  old  to  remember  how  close  her 
own  child — alas !  the  only  one — had  nestled  against 
her  breast : — 

**  .  .  .  They  tell  me  that  M.  Louis  displayed  the 
greatest  graciousness  and  tenderness  for  the  mother 
of  his  dear  little  one.  I  was  delighted  to  hear  it,  as 
I  am  sure  she  was  to  be  the  object  of  such  solicitude. 
He  is  kind-hearted,  and  was  probably  deeply  moved 
— but  I  know  the  Mama  of  the  dear  Napoleon  in  the 
cradle — did  she  allow  him  to  perceive  her  gratitude  1 
"  Adieu,  my  dear  angel,  I  kiss  the  little  one  in  his 
cradle.     Remember  me  to  his  dear  Papa.  ..." 

In  the  above  letter  we  find  the  first  hint  that 
matters  were  not  going  as  smoothly  with  the  babe's 
parents  as  they  ought  to  have  done  ;  in  another  letter 
written  soon  after,  Mme  Campan  says : — 

*'  Kiss  the  beautiful   Napoleon  for  me.      People 

^  Napoleon  Louis  was  born  October  10,  1802. 
271 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

already  talk  a  great  deal  about  him  ;  they  say  that  he 
is  prodigiously  greedy  !  " 

Poor  Hortense  was  always  her  own  enemy. 
Rumours  of  the  little  rift  within  the  lute  had  already 
reached  the  ears  of  the  kind  old  lady  at  Saint- 
Germain,  who  was  beginning  to  entertain  fears  for 
the  future  of  her  favourite.  Mme  Campan  was  well 
aware  that  when  once  the  pupil  had  spread  her  wings, 
good  advice  had  very  little  chance  of  being  followed  ; 
that  was  why  she  endeavoured  to  mould  the  young 
characters  while  they  were  still  malleable. 

During  the  winter  of  1802-03,  she  told  Hortense 
how  Stephanie  de  Beauharnais,  who  **has  much  im- 
proved, works  hard  and  gives  promise  of  doing 
honour  to  her  governess  if  she  continues  to  persevere," 
went  to  see  a  poor  woman  who  had  just  given  birth 
to  triplets.  "We  immediately  purchased  two  sets  of 
baby-linen  and  gave  them  to  the  mother  with  some 
money.  This  striking  spectacle  of  extreme  poverty 
is  the  best  way  to  make  young  ladies  become  ac- 
quainted with,  and  love  alms-giving."  She  concludes 
with  a  request  that  Hortense  will  contribute  forty- 
eight  francs  and  Mme  Bonaparte  a  few  louis  with 
which  to  furnish  the  poor  mother's  little  room. 

But  the  young  ladies  had  other  pleasures  more 
natural  to  their  age ;  picnics  have  always  been  a 
favourite  amusement  with  the  French  nation,  and 
an  expedition  to  the  neighbouring  forest  of  Saint- 
Germain  was  looked  upon  as  the  most  delightful  way 
of  spending  a  long  summer  day.  On  June  29,  1803, 
Mme  Campan  writes  to  Hortense,  urging  her  to  come 
and  spend  the  day  with  her  former  companions: 
"  Everything  shall  be  ready  for   Monday,   my  dear 

272 


THE  HAPPY  DAYS  OF  MME  CAMP  AN 

angel ;  only  let  M.  d'Aneucourt  know  in  good  time 
as  to  the  summer-house ;  I  have  chosen  this  spot 
because  there  is  a  kitchen,  a  shelter,  etc.,  and  because 
it  is  the  finest  part  of  the  forest,  and  farthest  away 
from  the  town.  I  will  bring  wine  and  beer ;  the 
doctor  has  promised  me  some  excellent  cider ;  I  shall 
also  have  ices,  a  baba,  a  Savoy  cake,  a  quantity  of 
cutlets  already  prepared  so  that  they  can  be  cooked 
in  the  summer-house,  new-laid  eggs,  a  chicken, 
tartlets,  and  cherries.  Carry  the  rest,  my  dear 
children !  I  have  only  invited  some  of  the  bigger 
girls  whom  you  knew  in  the  old  days  and  a  few  little 
ones  who  were  recommended  to  me  by  you  or  your 
Mama,  viz.  Victorine  Victor,  little  Clarke,  and  Nancy 
Macdonald,^  which  will  make  about  twenty.  I  have 
a  guinguette  *  for  the  little  ones  and  for  the  provisions. 
The  doctor  and  M.  Bernard  ^  will  come  with  us  ;  I  am 
bringing  M.  Beguin  with  his  violin  to  play  us  a  few 
waltzes.  It  will  be  a  real  school-picnic,  but  I  shall 
do  my  best  to  make  it  agreeable ;  as  for  me,  I  could 
not  pass  a  happier  day  than  when  you  are  with  me. 
If  only  the  weather  is  fine  !     Adieu,  my  dear  angel." 

We  can  see  the  little  ones,  almost  delirious  with 
delight,  jumping  in  and  out  of  the  guinguette  until  it 
is  time  to  start,  making  voyages  of  discovery  with 
inquisitive  little  fore-fingers  among  baskets  filled  with 
delicious  things,  and  wondering  whether  each  par- 
ticular sweet  tooth  will  get  what  she  likes  best ;  the 
bigger  girls,  arm-in-arm,  walking  on  ahead,  admiring 

^  Daughter  of  Marshal  Macdonald  (1765-1840),  due  de  Tarente, 
who  fought  for  France  during  the  wars  of  the  Repubhc  and  the  Empire. 
^  A  guinguette  is  a  sort  of  omnibus. 
'  The  chaplain  of  Mme  Campan's  Seminary. 

s  273 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

Hortense's  pretty  clothes  and  secretly  taking  hints 
for  their  new  autumn  costumes,  asking  questions 
about  the  beautiful  Napoleon  in  his  cradle  and  wish- 
ing that  they,  too,  were  out  in  the  world.  And  then, 
when  the  guinguette,  drawn  by  two  sleek  white 
percherons^  unexpectedly  sets  off  at  a  brisk  pace, 
throwing  the  little  ones  in  a  heap  on  to  one  of  the 
seats,  where  they  settle  themselves  after  a  great  deal 
of  patting  of  starched  muslin  flounces  and  pulling  out 
of  ringlets  from  beneath  Leghorn  bonnets,  the  green 
avenues  of  the  forest  re-echo  with  shrill  cries,  rippling 
laughter,  and  snatches  of  sweet  melody. 

Many  of  Hortense's  particular  friends  had  already 
left  the  nest,  but  the  granddaughters  of  Mme  de 
Genlis,  the  demoiselles  de  Valence,  one  of  whom 
later  became  Mme  de  Celles,  and  the  other  the  wife 
of  Mardchal  Gdrard,  were  certainly  there.  Mme 
Campan's  niece,  Agathe  Rousseau,  later  Mme  de  Saint- 
Elme,  was  still  at  Saint-Germain,  as  was  probably 
Eliza  Monroe — also  the  two  Miles  de  Castellane, 
whose  mother  had  died  in  the  greatest  poverty, 
leaving  three  daughters  penniless  ;  Mme  Bonaparte, 
however,  had  promised  the  poor  mother  on  her  death- 
bed to  look  after  her  children,  and  had  sent  two  of  the 
three  to  Mme  Campan,  and  paid  for  their  education. 
When  the  Empress  was  living  a  divorcee  at  La 
Malmaison,  she  had  pretty  Louise  de  Castellane  to 
reside  with  her,  and  eventually  married  her  to  M. 
Fritz  de  Pourtales,  formerly  an  officer  on  Berthier's 
staff,  descended  from  a  French  Protestant  family 
which  had  emigrated  to  Switzerland  after  the  revoca- 

^  Horses  from  the  French  province  of  Le  Perche,  noted  for  their 
beauty  and  strength. 

274 


MARRIAGE  OF  ANTOINETTE  AUGUlfi 

tion  of  the  Edict  of  Nantes,  gave  her  a  dowry  of 
100,000  francs,  together  with  jewels,  and  a  trousseau 
suitable  for  a  princess. 

Unfortunately  Hortense  did  not  always  content 
herself  with  such  innocent  amusements,  for  she  imitated 
Maman  Campan's  former  mistress  in  that  she  was 
fond  of  going  about  masked,  and  the  Folies-Beaujon, 
Frascati,  and  the  Pavilion  d'Hanovre  were  frequently 
visited  by  Mme  Louis  Bonaparte  and  her  party  of 
noisy  friends. 

It  was  not  long  before  Mme  Ney's  sister, 
Antoinette  Augui^,  found  a  husband  in  the  person  of 
M.  Charles  Gamot,  about  whom  little  is  known,  except 
that  he  was  a  good  husband,  and,  although  he  accepted 
the  post  of  prefect  of  Yonne  from  the  hand  of  Louis 
xviii,  flew  to  the  Emperor's  side  when  Napoleon 
returned  from  Elba — for  which  act  of  gratitude  M. 
Gamot  was  told  to  give  up  his  post  when  the  king 
returned  from  his  visit  to  Ghent.  Soon  after  her 
marriage,  Mme  Gamot  had  a  serious  illness  which 
would  probably  have  ended  fatally  had  not  the  First 
Consul's  physician,  the  celebrated  Corvisart,  been 
called  in.     Her  aunt  writes  : — 

**  Mme  Gamot  is  very  ill  ;  her  life  has  been  in 
danger  ;  her  condition  even  now  is  not  very  reassuring. 
She  has  seen  Corvisart,  whose  advice  has  been  of  the 
greatest  benefit.  When  her  friends  first  proposed 
that  she  should  consult  him,  she  exclaimed  :  *  I  would 
rather  die  than  see  that  cross-grained  wretch.'  This 
polite  speech  was  repeated  to  the  doctor,  who,  when 
he  saw  that  his  patient  was  getting  better,  told  her 
that  all  the  Paris  newspapers  had  reproduced  her 
speech.     The  poor  woman  was  so  overcome  that  she 

275 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

covered  her  head  with  the  bedclothes.  In  short,  the 
doctor  has  been  so  kind  that  she  no  longer  calls  him  a 
'  cross-grained  wretch.' " 

In  the  early  spring  of  1804  Mme  Campan  was  a 
frequent  visitor  at  La  Malmaison  ;  she  was  in  high 
favour  with  the  family  of  the  First  Consul,  Caroline 
Murat  even  going  the  length  of  lending  her  former 
governess  her  cook  when  Mme  Campan  wanted  an 
especially  good  dinner  prepared  for  her  pupils'  parents 
on  prize-giving  day. 

Mme  Campan,  seeing  how  popular  she  was  with 
her  former  pupils,  thought  that  she  might  obtain  a  post 
for  her  son  Henri,  whose  talents  she  considered  were 
wasted  at  Marseilles.  With  this  idea  in  her  mind  she 
wrote  to  Hortense  : — 

"  I  am  going  to  beg  the  First  Consul  to  be  so 
kind  as  to  obtain  for  my  son,  Henri,  a  position  which 
will  suit  his  tastes  and  make  for  my  happiness  ;  this 
is  the  first  time  I  have  ever  dared  to  ask  for  anything 
for  myself;  the  post  is  a  humble  one,  suitable  to  his 
years.  .  .  .  Tell  your  dear  Mama  what  I  am  going  to 
do,  and  ask  her  to  plead  for  me.  I  want  to  get  my 
son  the  position  of  inspector  in  the  new  financial 
company  which  is  being  inaugurated ;  the  place  is 
suitable  for  a  young  man ;  appointments  in  the 
customs,  post-office,  etc.,  are  usually  given  to  men  of 
his  age." 

When  Napoleon  in  May  1804  made  himself 
Emperor,  Mme  Campan  took  yet  another  step  higher 
up  the  social  ladder.  Comte  F^dor  Golowkine 
says : — 

"  Napoleon  found  he  needed  a  Court,  whereupon 
he   immediately   instituted   one;    this   was    an   easy. 

276 


SUCCESS  OF  MME  CAMP  AN 

matter,  but  it  was  not  so  easy  to   make  that  Court 
refined  and  polished.     He  sent  to  ask  the  advice  of 
the  princesse   de    Chimay,  lady-in-waiting    to    Marie 
Antoinette,  who  was   living   in  retirement   in  Paris. 
Her  reply  to  Duroc  was  short  but  noble  :  *  Tell  your 
master   that    I  only  remember  the  queen's  kindness 
towards  me.'     As  he  could   get   nothing  out  of  the 
lady-in-waiting,  he  had  to  content  himself  with  Mme 
Campan.     The  latter,  only  too  delighted  to  push  her- 
self and  her  nieces  forward,  replied  very  cautiously  : 
*  My  position  in  the  queen's  household  did  not  allow 
me  to  judge  of  the  manners  at  Court.     The  only  thing 
which  struck  me  was  that  the  ladies  of  quality  were 
very   dignified ;   they  never  raised   their  voices,  and 
used  very  few  gestures.'     This  made  such  an  impres- 
sion that,  at  the  coronation,  the  self-styled  princesses 
and  their  maids-of-honour  would  scarcely  move,  lest 
their  elbows  should   be  seen  sticking  out,  and   they 
hardly   dared   open    their   mouths    to   reply   to   any 
questions.  ..." 

One  historian  sums  up  the  matter  thus :  *'  Mme 
Campan's  establishment  at  Saint-Germain,"  says  he, 
"  was  the  hyphen,  so  to  speak,  between  the  courtly 
Past  of  Versailles  and  the  brilliant  Present  of  the 
Imperial  Court." 

Napoleon,  realizing  this  fact,  turned  to  Mme 
Campan  to  help  him  arrange  his  Court.  No  wonder 
that  lady,  writing  to  Hortense,  says  : — 

*'  Thanks  to  my  former  position,  and  to  the  present 
kindness  of  your  august  family,  I  have  lately  received 
at  least  sixty  petitions  or  letters  begging  me  to  under- 
take the  education  of  various  little  girls ;  I  have  been 
obliged  to  write  polite  refusals." 

277 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

Many  of  Mme  Campan's  former  pupils  were  now 
adorning  the  Imperial  Court  with  their  presence,  and 
of  these  Hortense  was   naturally  the   most   popular. 
M.  Hector  Fleischmann,  in  his  Dessous  de  Princesses 
et  Mardchales  de  r Empire,  tells  an  amusing  anecdote 
of  Hortense,  whose  talent  for  music  and  painting  were 
quite    remarkable   for  a  princess.     It  is  true  that,   a 
propos  of  the  first-named  art,  General  Thi^bault  very 
unkindly  remarks  :  *'  The  Songs  of  Queen  Hortense  ; 
words  by  Forbin,  melodies  by  Plantade,  accompani- 
ments by  Carbonnel "  ;  nevertheless  Hortense  really 
loved  music  for  its  own  sake.     It  seems  that  she  was 
very  proud  of  her  long,  pink,  almond-shaped  finger- 
nails, and  that  she  spent  some  time  every  day  polishing 
and  trimming  them.     Now  when  she,  as  an  Imperial 
princess,  wanted  to  take  lessons  on  the  harp  from  the 
celebrated  d'Alvimare,  she  was  horrified  to  hear  him 
call  them  "  claws,"  and  beg  her  to  cut  them,  or  she 
would  never  be  able  to  play  really  well.     To  which 
she  replied  that  she  could  never  find  courage  to  spoil 
their   shape.     However,  her  love  for  music  got  the 
better  of  her,  and  after  a  good  deal  of  persuasion  she 
sent  for  a  pair  of  scissors,  closed  her  eyes  and  told 
her  master   to  consummate  the  sacrifice,  whereupon 
Alvimare  set  to  work  and  soon  cut  the  **  claws  "  to  a 
suitable  length. 

In  October  1804  another  of  Mme  Campan's 
pupils  was  married  from  the  Seminary  at  Saint- 
Germain.  The  bride  was  Mile  Benezech,  the 
daughter  of  a  former  Secretary  of  State  for  the  Home 
Department,  while  the  bridegroom  was  Colonel  Marx, 
a  Belgian.  Great  must  have  been  the  disappointment 
of  the  little  pupils  when  it  was  announced  that  *'  as  the 

278 


AMBITIOUS  PLANS 

colonel  had  invited  several  generals  to  witness  his 
marriage,  it  was  not  thought  seemly  for  any  of  the 
young  ladies  to  be  visible  on  that  occasion."  It  would 
have  been  very  remarkable,  however,  if  some  of  the 
dozens  of  inquisitive  little  Eves  who  inhabited  Maman 
Campan's  Eden  had  not  managed,  by  dint  of  con- 
cealing themselves  behind  curtains,  or  bribing  servants 
to  leave  doors  open,  to  get  a  first-rate  view  of  the 
happy  pair  and  their  whiskered,  ear-ringed  military 
guests. 

For  some  time  past  Mme  Campan  had  been 
nourishing  a  plan  by  which  she  hoped  to  get  her 
establishment  officially  recognized  as  an  Imperial 
Educational  Institution.  In  January  1805  she  begs 
Hortense  "not  to  forget  this  project;  remember  that 
it  would  give  pleasure  to  the  entire  army,  that  it 
would  shed  glory  on,  and  be  a  source  of  much  interest 
to,  your  dear  Mama  and  your  Highness,  and  it  would 
make  me  inexpressibly  happy." 

The  Emperor  seems  to  have  approved  of  the 
plan,  for  a  month  later  she  writes  again  : — 

"You  need  only  insist  upon  the  fact  that  the  chief 
establishment  must  remain  at  Saint-Germain.  Accord- 
ing to  his  Majesty's  scheme,  there  would  be  a  principal 
establishment  for  the  daughters  of  military  men  or 
functionaries ;  they  would  pay  300  francs  per  annum, 
so  that  they  would  not  be  quite  penniless  girls ;  in  the 
departments  of  France  there  would  be  four  gratuitous 
establishments  conducted  on  different  lines  for  penni- 
less girls  ;  the  girls  in  my  house  who  paid  300  francs 
a-year  would  receive  the  surplus  of  their  pension 
from  the  Government.  I  myself  should  prefer  to 
remain  at  Saint-Germain,  where  the  air  is  very  pure, 

279 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

where  I  am  loved  and  considered  necessary  to  the 
well-being  of  the  place.  .  .  .  But  my  house  is  not 
large  enough  to  serve  as  an  Imperial  Educational 
Establishment,  and  it  is  as  much  as  I  can  do  to  lodge 
one  hundred  boarders  in  my  rambling  old  abode.  I 
could  never  find  room  for  two  hundred  and  sixty. 
As  the  Emperor  has  not  used  the  Lycde  of  Versailles, 
and  as  the  building  is  superb  and  all  ready  for 
habitation,  people  cry  :  '  Mme  Campan  is  coming  1 ' 
The  principal  walks  up  and  down  his  vast  dormitories 
alone  ;  he  is  disconsolate,  fears  that  the  rumour  may 
be  only  too  well  founded,  and  will  surely  do  his 
best  to  prevent  me  obtaining  the  convent  at  Ver- 
sailles. .  .  .  Perhaps  my  request  will  be  refused  ;  how- 
ever, it  is  better  for  the  inhabitants  of  Saint-Germain 
that  I  should  obey  the  Emperor.  If  I  remained  here, 
the  hotel  d'Harcourt  would  have  to  be  purchased, 
which  would  cost  100,000  francs,  and  200,000  francs 
would  have  to  be  spent  on  building ;  one  cannot 
accomplish  grand  things  with  bad  tools." 

However,  Mme  Campan  was  not  to  leave  Saint- 
Germain  for  some  months. 

Hortense  was  a  good  friend,  not  only  to  her 
former  schoolmistress,  but  also  to  her  former  school- 
fellows. Mme  Campan's  niece,  Agathe  Rousseau, 
now  the  wife  of  a  tax-collector,  M.  Bourboulon  de 
Saint-Elme,  had  cause  to  be  grateful  to  Mme  Louis 
Bonaparte,  who  obtained  for  her  friend's  husband  an 
important  position  at  Laon. 

Some  of  Hortense's  friends,  however,  expected 
her  to  do  too  much  for  them ;  great  was  Eliza 
Monroe's  disappointment  when  she  discovered  that 
Hortense  could  not  get  her  an  invitation  to  the  balls 

280 


JOSEPHINE  MISTRUSTS  MME  NEY 

given  by  Caroline  Murat  at  her  chateau  at  Neuilly, 
because  her  sister-in-law  was  a  great  respecter  of 
etiquette,  and,  as  the  sister  of  an  Emperor,  could  not 
be  expected  to  receive  the  daughter  of  an  honest 
Republican. 

During  the  spring  of  1805  the  reputation  of  one 
of  Mme  Campan's  nieces  very  nearly  suffered  owing 
to  the  Empress's  stupid  jealousy.  Josephine  had  dis- 
covered that  her  husband  was  engaged  in  an  intrigue 
with  some  lady  unknown  ;  she  took  it  into  her  head 
that  the  object  of  his  affections  was  Mme  Ney, 
although  that  lady's  behaviour  had  always  been  above 
reproach.  Now  the  person  who  had  attracted  the 
Emperor's  fancy  was  Mme  Duch^tel,  with  whom 
Caroline  Murat  had  not  so  long  ago  fancied,  rightly 
or  wrongly,  that  her  husband  was  in  love.  After 
slighting  Mme  Ney  on  every  occasion,  and  making 
herself  and  everybody  else  miserable,  Josephine 
plucked  up  courage  and  had  an  explanation  with  the 
supposed  culprit,  when  Mme  Ney  was  able  to  con- 
vince the  Empress  that,  far  from  being  flattered  by 
Napoleon's  attentions,  they  had  only  terrified  her,  and 
made  her  feel  utterly  miserable. 

Mme  Campan,  knowing  her  niece's  disposition, 
could  have  had  but  little  fears  for  her  reputation  ; 
however,  there  was  another  young  person  about 
whom  she  was  really  anxious,  and  that  was  Stephanie 
de  Beauharnais,  who,  in  April  1805,  went  to  stay 
with  her  cousin  Hortense  at  Saint-Leu,  where  she 
enjoyed  herself  so  much  that  Mme  Campan  had  to 
write  "Petite  Bonne"  the  following  letter  before  the 
young  lady  would  consent  to  return  to  the  fold  : — 

*'  I  beg  your  Highness  to  send  Mile  de  Beauhar- 

281 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

nais  back  as  soon  as  possible ;  the  Emperor  will 
question  her  on  his  return,  and,  although  I  am  quite 
innocent,  I  shall  be  blamed  for  her  ignorance.  Kindly 
remind  her  of  the  advantages  to  be  reaped  from  a 
good  education,  and  to  listen  to  me.  ...  I  could 
make  a  charming  woman  of  this  young  girl,  but  not 
if  she  remains  at  Saint-Cloud.  So,  if  you  can,  try 
and  arrange  so  that  Stephanie  is  left  with  me  until 
she  marries  ;  by  so  doing,  you  will  be  a  benefactor, 
not  only  to  her,  but  to  me  also,  for  I  shall  surely 
be  accused  of  having  spoilt  her  education  by  the 
Emperor,  who,  with  his  penetrating  glance,  says : 
*  That's  right ! '  or  '  That's  wrong  ! '  but  has  no  time 
to  examine  the  reason  thereof." 

Stephanie  de  Beauharnais'  progress  was  said  to 
be  hindered  by  that  other  Stephanie,  Mile  Tascher 
de  La  Pagerie,  whose  feeble  constitution  made  her 
indolent  and  prevented  her  working,  and  who  was 
altogether  a  bad  example  to  her  cousin. 

In  the  spring  of  1805  another  little  pupil  was 
brought  to  Mme  Campan's  establishment  by  a  no 
less  important  personage  than  the  Prince  of  Nassau- 
Siegen.  This  child,  named  Pholo6,  was  reported  to 
be  the  prince's  natural  daughter ;  but  Mme  Campan 
was  given  to  understand  when  she  took  charge  of  the 
little  thing  that  she  was  the  child  of  an  officer  of 
illustrious  birth,  belonging  to  one  of  the  oldest 
families  in  Lacedaemon. 

Mme  Campan  promised  the  child's  self-imposed 
princely  guardian  to  bring  up  little  Pholod  to  be  a 
useful  member  of  society,  so  that  she  would  avoid  the 
pitfalls  into  which  the  celebrated  beauty  Aiss^  the 
history  of  whose  birth  and  education  was  somewhat 

282 


THE  ORPHANS  OF  AUSTERLITZ 

similar,  had  fallen.  In  one  of  her  letters  Maman 
Campan  prays  Heaven  that  she  may  be  able  to 
preserve  this  child,  whom  she  calls  '*  too  pretty," 
from  all  evil. 

Mme  Campan's  friends  about  this  time  included 
the  wily  Talleyrand  ;  in  this  same  year  he  actually 
condescended  to  visit  her  establishment,  and,  what 
was  more  important,  express  his  approval  of  her 
method  of  teaching. 

Those  were  the  days  of  France's  glory.  An 
amusing  story  is  told  of  one  of  Mme  Campan's  little 
pupils  who  was  struggling  through  the  history  of 
her  fatherland  ;  on  hearing  of  fresh  victories,  nearly 
a  daily  event,  the  little  maid  heaved  a  deep  sigh  of 
pity  for  the  future  students  of  that  history,  and  re- 
marked :  *'  What  a  lot  the  poor  little  things  who 
come  after  us  will  have  to  learn ! " 

On  the  morrow  of  the  battle  of  Austerlitz 
(December  2,  1805)  Napoleon  definitely  accepted 
the  plan  which  Mme  Campan  had  cherished  for  so 
many  months,  by  signing  a  decree  by  which  he 
adopted  the  daughters  of  the  brave  fellows  who  had 
won  that  battle  for  him,  promising  to  have  them 
educated  and  taught  to  earn  their  living,  if  necessary. 

At  first  Mme  Campan  was  anxious  that  the 
chateau  of  Saint-Germain  should  be  used  as  the 
educational  establishment  for  the  daughters  of  the 
Legion  of  Honour,  with  herself  as  directress,  for  which 
post  her  experience  in  matters  of  education,  hygiene, 
and  economy  had  qualified  her.  She  writes  to 
Hortense  in  January  1806  : — 

'* .  .  .  The  Emperor  will  soon  be  back.  Be  so 
kind  as  to  display  the  same  interest  which  you  have 

283 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

hitherto  taken  in  my  fate.  How  happy  I  should  be 
supposing  our  hero  were  to  consider  me  capable  of 
carrying  out  his  design  !  If  he  says  to  you  :  '  Mme 
Campan's  proposal  does  not  suit  me,' — tell  him,  I  beg 
you,  the  truth.  '  She  proposed  this  in  order  to  please 
you,  her  one  idea  was  to  carry  out  your  orders,  and 
she  will  obey  you  no  matter  what  those  orders  may 
be.  Accomplishments,  or  no  accomplishments,  it  is 
all  the  same  to  her  ;  she  can  either  give  the  orphans 
the  simplest  or  the  most  brilliant  education.'  ..." 

It  seems  strange  to  think  that  Mme  Campan, 
notwithstanding  her  credit  at  Court,  should  have 
continually  been  in  quest  of  a  suitable  post  for  her  son, 
Henri.  In  February  1806  she  writes  to  Hortense  that 
she  hopes  to  obtain  "  a  position  as  auditor  for  her  son  ; 
this  expectation,  which  is  practically  certain  to  be 
realized,  will  compensate  him  for  the  eight  nomina- 
tions which  have  lately  been  made.  He  is  now 
twenty-two  years  of  age,  and  it  is  very  natural  that 
he  should  wish  to  be  somebody,  and  occupy  some 
honourable  position." 

In  this  same  month  she  obtained  an  interview 
with  M.  Daru,  before  that  gentleman  started  for  Berlin, 
where  he  was  to  occupy  the  post  of  Minister  Pleni- 
potentiary. At  first  M.  Daru  seemed  inclined  to 
think  that  the  education  given  to  the  orphans  of 
Austerlitz  by  Marie  Antoinette's  former  waiting- 
woman  would  not  be  sufficiently  practical,  whereupon 
she  hastened  to  reassure  him  : — 

*'  Do  not  imagine,"  said  she,  "  that  I  should  teach 
the  girls  to  dance  gavottes  and  sing  comic  opera  airs  ; 
only  those  whom  the  Emperor  designated  would 
receive  instruction  in  music  and  dancing ;  the  rest  of 

284 


MARRIAGE  OF  STfiPHANIE 

the  education  would  be  practical  and  religious  ;  they 
would  learn  dressmaking,  needlework,  would  make  the 
household  linen,  embroider  furniture  for  the  Imperial 
family " 

"Well,"  remarked  M.  Daru,  still  unconvinced, 
"  and  then  what  would  they  do  when  their  education 
was  finished  ?  " 

"  We  would  make  good  and  virtuous  wives  of 
them  ;  with  a  dowry  of  500  or  600  livres  we  could 
marry  them  to  business  men,  soldiers,  etc." 

This  was  a  conclusive  argument. 

Two  months  later  Stephanie  de  Beauharnais  left 
Mme  Campan's  kind  care  in  order  to  marry  the 
hereditary  prince  of  Baden,  whom  Napoleon,  by  the 
Treaty  of  Presburg,  had  deprived  of  his  fiancee,  the 
charming  princess  Augusta- Amelia,  giving  her  to  his 
adopted  son,  Eugene  de  Beauharnais. 

Mme  dAbrantes  speaks  thus  of  Stephanie,  at 
that  time  seventeen  years  of  age  :  *'  I  have  seen  few 
women  who  have  seemed  to  me  more  pleasing  than 
Mile  Stephanie  de  Beauharnais  was  at  that  time.  Not 
only  did  she  possess  all  the  advantages  necessary  to 
a  woman  of  the  world,  but  she  was  also  endowed  with 
everything  which  pleases :  graciousness,  good  manners, 
a  charming  face,  and  an  elegant  figure.  She  pleased 
every  one  with  her  pretty  features  and  prepossessing 
manner.  She  was  vastly  admired  by  gentlemen,  for 
which  fault  the  ladies  forgave  her  because  she  was 
always  kind  and  ever  ready  to  be  obliging." 

Mme  dAbrantes  draws  the  bridegroom  in  a  very 
unfavourable  light :  "He  was  the  most  disagreeable 
person  I  have  ever  met.  He  looked  like  a  naughty 
boy    in    disgrace,  besides    which   he    was  not   at  all 

285 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

handsome.     In   short,  he  was   a   most   disagreeable 
prince,  and  above  all,  a  very  disagreeable  lover." 

The  Emperor  gave  the  lovely  Stephanie  a 
magnificent  wedding  ;  when  he  took  her  hand  to  lead 
her  to  the  chapel,  a  murmur  of  admiration  at  her 
splendid  jewels  and  dress,  the  gifts  of  Napoleon  and 
Josephine,  arose  from  the  assembled  guests. 

M.  Fr^ddric  Loli^e  gives  an  amusing  account  of 
the  bridal  procession  to  the  chapel,  when  Napoleon 
hurried  the  bride  along  far  too  quickly  to  please 
Talleyrand,  who  had  to  head  the  cortege,  and  could 
hardly  hobble  on  account  of  his  lameness,  to  the 
great  disgust  of  the  Empress,  who  wished  to  look  her 
best,  and  the  guests  who  formed  the  tail  of  the  pro- 
cession, and  wanted  to  see  the  effect  of  their  fine 
clothes  on  the  crowd.  In  vain  did  the  chamberlains 
urge  the  head  and  tail  to  keep  in  step  with  the  bride 
and  the  Emperor,  who  was  in  a  hurry  to  "get  it  all 
over  as  soon  as  possible."  But  alas  !  Talleyrand  and 
the  guests  would  not  be  hurried,  so  that  the  procession 
was  constantly  dislocated. 

A  magnificent  wedding-breakfast  was  afterwards 
given  at  the  palace  of  the  Tuileries. 

The  prince  was  really  very  much  in  love  with  his 
bride.  Soon  after  the  wedding  he  paid  a  visit  to 
Mme  Campan.  "  He  stayed  half  an  hour  talking  to 
me,"  she  tells  Hortense  ;  "he  said  such  flattering 
things  concerning  my  system  of  education  and  my 
own  person  that  I  dare  not  repeat  them,  and  he 
seemed  so  delighted  with  his  young  wife  that  I  feel  I 
ought  to  tell  your  Majesty.  '  Every  day,'  said  he, 
'  I  feel  more  satisfied  with  the  princess,  and  I  wish  to 
tell  you,  Madame,  that  she  possesses  genuine  principles 

286 


THE  STORY  OF  A  TRAGEDY 

of  virtue,  piety,  modesty,  and  an  immense  fund  of 
wit ;  in  four  years'  time  she  will  be  a  perfect  princess/ 
He  then  added  :  *  Her  destiny  is  indeed  an  astonishing 
one,  but  she  is  fit  to  fill  the  position,  as  she  will  prove/ 
In  short,  he  sees  her  with  the  eyes  of  a  lover;  she 
must  be  very  happy/' 

When  Stephanie  went  to  her  new  home  she  took 
with  her,  as  her  ladies-in-waiting,  two  of  her  school- 
fellows. Miles  Nelly  Bourjolie  and  Antoinette  de 
Mackau. 

The  prince  of  Baden  at  first  did  his  best  to  please 
his  wife  ;  however,  he  soon  discovered  that  the  pretty 
Stephanie  had  only  accepted  him  for  his  title  and 
fortune,  and  that  she  was  a  born  coquette  into  the 
bargain.  Napoleon  and  Josephine  were  frequently 
called  in  to  make  peace  between  the  unhappy 
creatures. 

Stephanie  had  five  children,  three  daughters  and 
two  sons,  not  including  the  mysterious  Kaspar 
Hauser,^  if  indeed  he  was  her  son.  Stephanie's  two 
legitimate  sons  both  died  very  suddenly  ;  the  death  of 
the  eldest  one  was  particularly  painful,  owing  to  the 
fact  that  his  mother  was  not  allowed  to  see  him  while 
he  was  dying,  nor  even  when  he  was  dead. 

*  The  mysterious  boy,  Kaspar  Hauser,  when  discovered  at 
Nuremberg  in  1828,  could  scarcely  speak,  did  not  know  his  name  or  his 
age  or  from  whence  he  came,  and  apparently  seemed  to  have  lived  the 
life  of  a  recluse.  He  held  in  his  hand  a  letter  addressed  to  an  officer  at 
Nuremberg,  in  which  it  was  said  that  he  was  born  in  18 12,  and  that  his 
father  was  in  a  Bavarian  cavalry  regiment.  Kaspar  was  confided  to  the 
care  of  a  schoolmaster,  his  board  and  education  being  paid  by  charity. 
Lord  Stanhope  displayed  much  interest  in  him.  On  two  or  three 
occasions  mysterious  attempts  were  made  to  murder  him,  and  in  1833 
he  was  so  cruelly  wounded  by  some  person  unknov/n  that  he  died. 
During  his  last  moments  he  frequently  called  out :  "  Mother  !  mother  1 
come  to  me  ! " 

287 


CHAPTER  XIV 

Extravagance  of  Napoleon's  cuisinilres — The  Emperor  deputes  Mme 
de  Lavalette  to  curb  Josephine's  passion  for  spending — Hortense 
becomes  queen  of  Holland — Mme  Campan's  plans  appear  likely  to 
miscarry — She  is  appointed  directress  of  the  Establishment  of  the 
Legion  of  Honour  at  Ecouen — A  girls'  boarding-school  during  the 
Empire. 

Extravagance  was  a  failing  from  which  many  of  the 
beautiful  women  at  the  Imperial  Court  suffered  ;  two 
of  Napoleon's  cuisinieres,  Mmes  Savary  and  Maret, 
spent  from  50,000  to  60,000  francs  a  year  on  their 
toilette  during  their  reign  of  prosperity.  Even  Mme 
Ney,  whose  husband,  the  Lion  rouge,  had  about  one 
million  francs  a  year,  managed  to  get  rid  of  4000 
francs'  worth  of  underclothing  in  twelve  months,  while 
Caroline  Murat  spent  30,000  francs  at  the  shop  of  M. 
Leroy,  the  self-styled  Empereur  du  don  ion,  in  the 
space  of  a  few  months. 

In  1806  Napoleon,  anxious  to  curb  Josephine's 
ever-increasing  extravagance,  appointed  Mme  de 
Lavalette  to  act  as  housekeeper  to  his  wife.  After 
spending  some  time  in  Berlin  and  Dresden,  where 
Mme  de  Lavalette,  notwithstanding  her  rather  shy 
manners,  had  won  all  hearts,  M.  de  Lavalette  had 
lately  returned  with  his  family  to  France,  when  he  was 
given  the  post  of  steward.  Mme  de  Lavalette  had 
one  little  girl  born  in  1802,  and  named  Josephine^ 
^  This  little  Josephine  afterwards  became  the  baronne  de  Forget 

288 


NAPOLEON  DISLIKES  AILING  WOMEN 

after  her  successful  cousin,  who,  however,  treated  the 
child  and  her  mother  as  if  they  were  poor  relations. 
Emilie  de  Lavalette  had  nearly  lost  her  life  at  the 
birth  of  her  little  daughter,  and  in  fact  she  never 
really  recovered  her  health,  so  that  the  long  hours  of 
standing  about  in  the  heated  rooms  of  the  Tuileries 
soon  became  a  positive  torture  to  her.  And  it  must 
be  confessed  that  the  Emperor  was  not  always  very 
sympathetic  ;  for  when  Mme  de  Lavalette  was  obliged, 
on  account  of  a  sick  headache,  to  remain  absent  from 
any  of  those  brilliant  ceremonies  which  he  liked  to  see 
adorned  by  Emilie's  lovely  face,  he  would  say  to 
Josephine  : — 

"Is  she  always  going  to  be  ill  ?  .  .  .  Well,  well ! 
send  her  to  get  strong  at  Nice  !  " 

Now  although  Mme  de  Lavalette  was  an 
economical  housekeeper,  and  capable  of  brewing  an 
excellent  pot-au-feu,  she  was  quite  unable  to  make 
any  alteration  in  Josephine's  habits,  being  handicapped 
from  the  very  beginning  by  another  of  the  Empress's 
ladies,  Mme  Hamelin,  who  encouraged  her  mistress 
to  be  extravagant  on  every  occasion. 

When,  in  June  1806,  Louis  Bonaparte  was  made 
king  of  Holland  by  his  wonderful  brother,  Mme 
Campan  wrote  volumes  of  good  advice  to  Hortense. 
including  a  brief  history  of  the  country  over  which  her 
favourite  was  about  to  rule,  recommending  her  not  to 
believe  Anquetil,^  who  in  his  work  upon  Holland 
says  :  '*  That  land  is  inhabited  by  the  demon  of  gold, 
crowned  with  a  wreath  of  tobacco  leaves,  and  seated 
on  a  throne  made  of  cheeses." 

1  Anquetil,  Paul  (i  723-1806),  an  author  of  some  note,  director  of  the 
College  of  Rheims  and  a  member  of  the  Institut  de  France. 
T  289 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

Hortense  was  certainly  a  good  friend  to  her  old 
schoolfellows  ;  in  the  midst  of  her  splendour  she  found 
time  to  procure  a  lucrative  post  for  the  father  of 
Eliza  de  Lally-Tollendal.  This  gentleman,  suspecting 
that  his  daughter's  schoolmistress  had  had  something 
to  do  in  the  matter,  wrote  to  Mme  Campan  : — 

**  I  shall  no  longer  go  to  bed  with  the  thought :  If 
I  die  of  apoplexy  during  the  night,  I  shall  leave  my 
child  without  a  sou  in  the  world." 

Hortense,  who  had  had  a  hand  in  the  marriage  of 
Egl^  Ney,  nde  Augui^,  which  marriage  had  turned 
out  most  happily,  now  endeavoured  to  find  a  husband 
for  Egld's  sister,  Adele,  who,  her  good  aunt  rather 
unkindly  remarks,  "  has  no  time  to  lose." 

Mardchal  Duroc  promised  to  look  about  for  a 
suitable  party.  After  a  good  deal  of  ''  looking  about," 
and  various  embarrassing  **  interviews,"  Mile  Adele 
expressed  herself  willing  to  marry  the  mar^chal  de 
Broc,  Grand-Marshal  to  the  Court  of  Holland,  and 
thus  she  became  lady-in-waiting  to  her  friend  Hortense. 

Hortense  was  also  so  kind  as  to  invite  little  Pholo6 
to  come  and  visit  her  in  her  new  home,  whereupon 
Mile  Pholo^  got  out  her  prettiest  notepaper  and 
wrote,  in  her  best  copy-book  style,  to  little  prince 
Napoleon,  his  first  letter,  in  which  she  "presents  her 
respects  to  the  baby  prince,  and  says  she  hopes  to 
come  to  Holland  next  spring." 

In  1806  Mme  Campan  inherited  the  sum  of 
8000  francs  from  an  old  friend,  M.  Chaumauri^  with 
which  she  purchased  a  little  farm  in  the  pretty  valley 
of  Chevreuse,  **very  close  to  the  Muses,  for  my 
garden  gate  is  just  opposite  that  of  M.  de  Boufflers, 
where  the  Abbd  Delille  often  goes  into  retirement  in 

290 


MME  CAMP  AN  THINKS  OF  RETIRING 

order  to  compose  his  tuneful  verses  and  polish  his 
sparkling  tirades." 

During  the  winter  of  1806-7  Mme  Campan's  son 
spent  some  months  in  Berlin  seeking  for  the  long- 
expected  position  which  at  one  time  seemed  likely  to 
await  him  in  Poland;  but  in  February  1807  he  was 
back  in  Paris,  where  his  mother  hoped  he  would 
obtain  the  post  of  auditor,  when  she  proposed  to  make 
him  a  yearly  allowance  of  6000  francs. 

In  this  same  month  Mme  Campan,  fearing  that 
Napoleon  was  not  going  to  appoint  her  directress  of 
the  Imperial  Educational  Establishment  which  he 
was  about  to  create  at  Ecouen  as  she  had  hoped  he 
would  do  at  one  time,  had  serious  thoughts  of  retirinor 
into  private  life,  for  she  wrote  to  Hortense  asking  her 
to  obtain  a  pension  of  2000  francs  a  year  for  her,  so 
that  she  could  cultivate  her  little  farm,  and  pay  visits 
to  her  '*  Petite  Bonne "  and  princess  Stephanie  of 
Baden  ;  she  adds  that  she  would  prefer  to  devote  the 
last  years  of  her  strength  to  "the  education  of  one 
of  the  royal  princes,  or  to  an  Imperial  Establish- 
ment." 

She  tells  Hortense  that,  during  the  twelve  years 
she  has  been  keeping  school,  she  has  only  had 
eighteen  months  of  real  prosperity,  owing  to  the 
continual  wars,  so  that  she  now  finds  herself  in  debt 
to  the  amount  of  30,000  francs.  "If  peace  were 
declared,  everything  would  go  well  with  Saint- 
Germain.  The  effects  of  this  inestimable  blessing, 
which  we  should  owe  to  the  sublime  mind  and  the 
magnanimity  of  our  Emperor,  would  daily  make  them- 
selves felt.  As  it  is  to  my  interest  not  to  allow  an 
establishment  which  has  caused  me  so  much  anxiety 

291 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

and  such  great  expense  to  fall  to  pieces,  I  have  had 
some  more  prospectuses  printed,  which  leave  no 
doubts  concerning  my  teaching  of  religious  subjects 
and  the  simplicity  of  our  pupils'  costume.  I  can 
assure  your  Majesty  that  I  am  more  than  ever 
attentive  to  the  educational  part  of  my  establishment. 
M.  Isabey  has  brought  back  his  daughters,  whom  he 
had  taken  away  from  me  because  he  was  chagrined 
that  they  had  obtained  no  prizes.  ..." 

Among  other  pupils  under  Mme  Campan's  care 
about  this  time  were  Christine  Kosowska,  a  young 
Polish  girl,  Alix  and  Josephine  dAudiffr^dy  (the  latter 
the  Empress's  goddaughter),  natives  of  Martinique, 
and  Elisa  de  Courtin,  later  the  wife  of  Casimir 
Delavigne. 

As  the  months  glided  away,  poor  Mme  Campan 
became  more  and  more  uneasy  lest  the  Emperor 
should  not  appoint  her  to  manage  the  Imperial 
Establishment  at  Ecouen  ;  she  began  to  imagine  that 
she  was  no  longer  a  persona  grata  with  the  Imperial 
family,  although  Caroline  Murat  frequently  invited  her 
to  dinner,  and  although  Josephine  was  most  gracious 
to  her  when  she  had  her  to  lunch  at  La  Malmaison, 
**  where  "  she  declares,  **  I  no  longer  have  any  friends, 
not  even  among  my  old  pupils.  The  advantages 
enjoyed  by  my  nieces  have  won  me  many  enemies.  .  .  . 
At  this  time  when  his  Majesty  is  about  to  create 
the  Establishment  of  the  Legion  of  Honour,  interest- 
ing himself  in  female  education,  when  what  he  has 
deigned  to  say  concerning  his  plans  for  my  future 
has  been  circulated  not  only  in  Europe  but  even  in 
America,  from  whence  my  brother  has  written  to 
congratulate   me,    may    I    not   hope   that   he   in  his 

292 


A  DUTIFUL  NIECE 

wisdom  and  justice  will  find  a  way  to  employ  me  ? 
Do  not  let  your  Majesty  in  your  kindness  imagine 
that  I  am  not  competent  to  accomplish  the  task ;  I 
should  only  dread  the  false  opinions  of  intermediate 
agents,  but  I  should  find  support  in  the  Emperor's 
justice  and  in  Marshal  Duroc's  old  friendship  for 
me.  .  .  . 

That  Mme  Campan  had  a  good  opinion  of  her 
own  talents  is  shown  by  the  following  letter,  dated 
April  2,  1807,  ^^^  written  to  the  queen  of  Holland: — 

"The  Establishment  of  the  Legion  of  Honour  is 
now  being  organized  ;  posts  are  being  given  to  the 
daughters  of  prefects  and  generals  of  division;  if  I 
were  condemned  to  remain  here,  the  establishment 
would  suffer  a  genuine  loss.  ...  I  was  afraid  that 
your  Majesty  had  chosen  an  inopportune  moment  in 
which  to  write  to  the  Emperor,  but  as  he  has  found 
time  in  the  midst  of  the  noise  and  bustle  of  camp  life 
to  nominate  many  little  girls  for  his  schools,  why 
should  he  think  it  presuming  of  your  Majesty  to 
mention  the  person  he  chose  to  bring  up  the 
princesses,  then  to  form  an  establishment,  and  who 
has  had  the  honour  and  the  happiness  of  educat- 
ing the  queen  of  Holland  and  the  two  grand- 
duchesses  ? " 

Mme  Campan  had  ever  been  a  good  friend  to  her 
poor  relations,  and  now  that  it  was  in  her  power  to 
repay  her  for  some  of  her  many  acts  of  kindness,  one 
of  her  nieces,  Adele  Augui6,  the  day  before  her 
marriage  to  the  mardchal  de  Broc,  wrote  the  following 
letter  to  Queen  Hortense,  in  which  she  strives  to  use 
her  influence  with  her  old  schoolfellow  and  future 
mistress : — 

293 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

"  Paris,  April  lo,  1807. 

"  I  send  you  my  aunt's  letter,  my  dear  Hortense  ; 
her  joy  at  my  marriage  has  enabled  her  to  forget  her 
troubles  for  a  few  hours  ;  but  you  must  realize,  I  am 
sure,  her  cruel  position.  Do  something  for  her,  my 
good  Hortense,  and  you  will  make  me  very  happy. 
I  have  just  received  your  wedding-present ;  I  have 
never  seen  anything  prettier ;  I  am  only  grieved  to 
think  what  a  lot  of  money  it  must  have  cost.  Adieu, 
Hortense ;  to-morrow  is  the  great  day ;  you  will 
think  of  me,  won't  you  ?  Adele  Augui6." 

When  a  rumour  reached  Mme  Campan's  ears  that 
Napoleon  was  about  to  appoint  a  lady-abbess  as 
directress  of  the  Establishment  of  the  Legion  of 
Honour,  she  exclaimed  : — 

"  This  is  what  I  have  always  dreaded  most  of  all, 
because  opinions,  or  rather  religious  intrigues,  are  all- 
powerful  ;  for  I  do  not  think  that  enthusiasm  over 
politics  usually  goes  with  great  devoutness.  Our 
Emperor,  however,  is  not  easily  influenced  ;  and  if 
such  be  his  desire,  we  may  be  sure  that  he  thought 
the  presence  of  an  abbess  would  make  the  establish- 
ment more  stately,  more  imposing.  Other  rumours 
mention  the  name  of  Mme  de  Genlis,  but  these  I  do 
not  believe.  Why  should  the  Emperor  prefer  the 
governess  of  the  Bourbon  branch  to  her  who  has  had 
the  honour  of  educating  several  members  of  his 
family  ?  Lastly,  many  people  assert  that  I  shall  be 
chosen.  If  I  am  not  chosen,  if,  after  having  admitted 
me  to  the  First  Consul's  society,  after  having  been 
honoured  with  four  visits  from  him,  chosen  by  him  to 
educate  his  family,   I   remain  where  I  now  am,  my 

294 


MME  CAMPAN  IS  REWARDED 

health  will  become  undermined  by  my  trials,  and  I 
shall  not  long  survive  this  unmerited  affront.  ...  If 
he  nominates  any  other  person  than  myself  to  Ecouen, 
let  him  organize  a  similar  establishment  at  Saint- 
Germain  ;  tell  him  that  the  opening  of  an  Imperial 
Educational  Establishment  at  Ecouen  would  complete 
the  ruin  of  my  present  house,  v^hich  has  never  re- 
covered from  the  effects  of  these  continual  wars,  and 
has  forced  me  to  run  into  debt." 

At  last,  after  long  months  of  anxiety,  Mme 
Campan  heard  in  September  1807  that  the  Emperor, 
in  consideration  of  her  past  services,  had  appointed 
her  to  be  directress  of  the  Imperial  Establishment 
at  Ecouen. 

This  chateau,  situated  on  a  hill  with  a  fine  view 
about  four  leagues  from  Paris,  in  the  department  of 
Seine-et-Oise,  was  originally  built  by  Anne  de 
Montmorency,  *'  the  second  Bayard,"  during  the  reign 
of  Francois  11 ;  it  afterwards  fell  into  the  hands  of  the 
Cond^s,  and  it  was  here  that  Henri  11,  in  1559,  passed 
sentence  of  death  on  all  his  Protestant  subjects. 

Poor  Mme  Campan  could  scarcely  believe  that 
her  dream  had  come  true  :  had  the  Emperor  really 
chosen  her,  the  governess  of  the  Bonapartes  and  the 
de  Beauharnais,  to  direct  the  establishment  at  Ecouen  } 
were  her  troubles  really  at  an  end?  In  her  delight 
she  wrote  to  Hortense  : — 

"  Madame,  yesterday  I  went  to  Ecouen ;  I  spent 
six  hours  making  plans  and  arranging  various  matters. 
The  chateau  is  in  good  repair,  but  one  can  see  that  it 
was  not  built  to  serve  as  an  educational  establish- 
ment ;  however,  the  dormitories  are  big,  the  refectories 
spacious,  the  position  healthy  and  situated  amid  the 

29s 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

prettiest  scenery  around  Paris.  There  are  no  grated 
parlours,  and  yet  nothing  is  more  necessary  in  order 
to  show  that  the  pupils  are  cloistered,  and  prevent 
their  relatives  seeing  them  without  permission.  There 
must  be  three  such  grated  parlours:  one  for  the 
servants  and  the  tradespeople,  one  for  the  pupils,  and  one 
for  the  princesses.  The  grating  must  open  in  the  middle 
on  hinges,  and  be  so  arranged  that  the  male  relatives 
of  the  pupils  cannot  see  the  girls  without  permission  : 
Messieurs  les  chambellans  and  the  equerries  will  not 
like  this  rule,  but  it  is  indispensable  where  the  pupils 
are  cloistered. 

*'  The  chapel  is  magnificent ;  it  has  not  yet  been 
restored  ;  but  this  work  must  be  done  before  we  move 
in,  for  it  would  never  do  for  an  army  of  workmen  to 
be  in  the  same  building  with  the  young  ladies.  The 
architecture  of  the  altar,  which  was  respected  by  the 
revolutionists,  is  in  keeping  with  the  chapel.  The 
Te  Deum  and  the  Domine  Salvum  shall  be  sung  by 
clear  voices  and  pious  lips.  Your  Majesty  will  come 
and  hear  them.  Nothing  makes  a  deeper  impression 
upon  youth  than  to  see  great  and  powerful  personages 
kneeling  in  prayer.  I  will  say  no  more  to  your 
Majesty  concerning  Ecouen,  where  I  do  not  desire 
to  obtain  success  —  the  term  is  too  worldly,  and 
reminds  me  of  the  spite  and  jealousy  found  in  that 
world — but  one  word  of  praise  and  then  I  shall  die 
content." 

But  1808  was  to  dawn  before  Mme  Campan  could 
move  into  her  new  home.  The  dormitories,  baptized 
dor toirs  Julie,  Zdnaide,  Charlotte,  and  Catherine,  after 
members  of  the  Emperor's  family,  were  soon  arranged  ; 
but  the  repairs  to  the  chapel  necessitated  great  ex- 

296 


LOLOTTE  BONAPARTE 

pense  and  much  time.  The  architect  had  made  out 
an  estimate  for  20,000  francs,  which  included  bringing 
the  high  altar  and  the  stained-glass  windows  from  the 
church  of  the  Petits  Augustins  in  Paris,  whither  they 
had  been  removed,  and  where  the  altar  had  been  used 
as  a  sort  of  pedestal  for  the  statues  of  Anne  de  Mont- 
morency and  his  wife,  the  authorities  refusing  to  give 
back  the  altar  and  windows  without  an  order  from  the 
Emperor.  Napoleon  having  given  the  order,  the 
stone  high-constable  and  his  good  wife  were  placed  on 
another  and  a  more  suitable  pedestal,  '*  which  will  not 
hurt  the  dead  high-constable,"  adds  Mme  Campan. 

Charlotte  Bonaparte  did  not  accompany  her  kind 
governess  to  Ecouen.  In  1804  her  father,  having 
received  the  title  of  prince  de  Canino  from  his  friend 
Pius  vii,^  had  gone  to  reside  at  Viterbo.  In  1807 
Napoleon  tried,  while  at  Mantua,  to  obtain  a  recon- 
ciliation with  his  brother  ;  but  Lucien  had  never  for- 
given his  powerful  brother's  attempts  to  make  him 
divorce  his  second  wife,  had  taken  Lolotte  away  from 
Mme  Campan,  brought  her  home  rejoicing  to  Italy, 
and  resisted  all  Napoleon  s  efforts  to  make  friends, 
although  the  Emperor  had  promised  to  find  a  princely 
husband  for  Lolotte  in  the  person  of  the  prince  of  the 
Asturias,  whose  father,  he  declared,  **had  craved  her 
hand  for  his  son."  Napoleon  was  apt  to  forget  such 
unimportant  matters  as  the  ages  of  his  victims  when- 
ever he  had  any  fresh  plans  for  lightning  matches  ; 
but  it  was  somewhat  of  a  surprise  to  him  when  Lucien 
wrote  rather  scornfully  that  ''  Lolotte  was  only  twelve 
years  of  age." 

^  Pius  VII  was  Pope  from  1800  to  1823  ;  he  signed  the  Concordat,  and 
crowned  Napoleon  Emperor  of  the  French. 

297 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMP  AN 

"  Dear  me !  "  remarked  Napoleon,  "  I  thought  she 
was  older  than  that !  " 

Lucien  did  not  attempt  to  hide  his  disgust  from 
M.  de  Girardin  :  "  Why  does  he  want  to  make 
friends  after  all  those  years?  He  came  twice  to 
Rome  without  seeing  either  me  or  my  children,  and 
yet  they  are  his  nephews  and  nieces." 

In  December  1807,  Napoleon  made  one  more 
attempt.  He  wrote  to  Lucien  telling  him  either  to 
bring  Lolotte  himself  to  Paris  or  else  to  send  her  with 
a  governess,  as  he  wished  her  to  share  the  benefits 
which  he  was  showering  upon  all  his  other  relatives 
—  and  alas !  so  often  only  reaping  ingratitude  in 
return. 

Lucien  took  no  notice  of  this  invitation. 

When  the  repairs  at  Ecouen  were  nearing  com- 
pletion, Mme  Campan,  always  anxious  to  be  up  to 
date,  went  to  the  Emperor  and  begged  him  to  let  her 
have  some  firemen  to  protect  the  building  from  fire. 
Napoleon  remarked  : — 

**  Your  supervision  ought  to  be  sufficient." 

"Yes,  Sire,"  replied  Mme  Campan,  flattered  by 
the  compliment,  "it  might  do  so,  but  can  I  prevent 
fire  falling  from  the  skies  ?  " 

"  You  are  right,"  concluded  the  Emperor,  and  he 
immediately  ordered  that  Mme  Campan  should  be 
given  three  firemen  to  protect  the  house  from  fire. 

What  were  Maman  Campan's  feelings  when  she 
said  good-bye  to  the  old  Hotel  de  Rohan,  where  she 
had  spent  ten  busy  years  teaching,  educating  little 
girls,  many  of  whom  were  to  become  celebrated 
women  ?  She  was  no  longer  young,  being  over  fifty 
years  of  age.     In  future  she  would  be  the  directress 

298 


NAPOLEON  AS  A  GOOD  CATHOLIC 

of  a  huge  establishment  —  which  meant  that  she 
would  see  less  of  her  pupils,  that  she  would  cease  to 
mother  the  little  ones.  Hitherto  she  had  always 
taken  her  meals  with  her  pupils,  but  now  this  would 
be  impossible.  The  class  of  pupils  was  also  about  to 
change,  for  the  princesses  could  not  be  expected  to 
send  their  daughters  to  a  public  school  for  three 
hundred  girls  of  all  ages,  from  the  little  one  learning 
its  alphabet  to  the  marriageable  young  miss  of 
eighteen,  "whose  father  can  easily  find  her  a  husband 
if  he  is  an  honest  man,  or  if  she  Is  possessed  of  a  con- 
siderable fortune." 

Mme  Campan  had  the  entire  management  of  the 
establishment  of  Ecouen  ;  she  was  aided  in  her  task 
by  the  comte  de  Lacdpede,  at  that  time  chancellor 
of  the  Legion  of  Honour.  Napoleon  Insisted  upon 
all  the  plans  being  submitted  to  him  for  approval ; 
nothing  was  too  insignificant ;  such  commonplace 
subjects  as  furniture,  dress,  and  food  were  examined 
carefully  by  this  wonderful  man.  Saint-Germain  was 
to  serve  as  a  model  for  Ecouen — but  a  slightly  altered 
model,  however,  for  Napoleon  did  not  approve  of 
"  showing  off  the  young  belles,"  and  accomplishments 
were  to  be  limited. 

In  one  of  her  reports  Mme  Campan  suggested 
that  If  Mass  were  said  in  the  chapel  belonging  to  the 
school  twice  a  week,  on  Sundays  and  Thursdays,  it 
would  be  quite  sufficient ;  Napoleon  returned  the 
report  with  this  remark  scribbled  In  his  own  hand- 
writing :  ''It  must  be  said  every  day'' 

And  yet  the  clergy  did  not  look  with  favour  upon 
Ecouen,  and  for  many  months  did  everything  they 
could  to  prevent  the  faithful  sending  their  daughters 

299 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

to  live  under  Mme  Campan  s  roof.  The  cause  is  not 
far  to  seek  ;  it  lay  in  Napoleon's  determination  to 
think  for  himself  and  to  keep  free  from  the  trammels 
with  which  both  Catholic  and  Protestant  clergy  would 
gladly  have  bound  him.  Napoleon  respected  all 
religions.  Did  not  Harry  Heine's  father  always 
remember  with  gratitude  how,  on  one  occasion,  when 
the  Emperor  was  in  Germany,  that  most  wonderful 
man  spoke  most  kindly  to  "  the  poor  Jew  boy "  ? 
The  clergy  showed  their  animosity  on  every  occasion. 
When  the  Bishop  of  Metz,  after  many  pressing  in- 
vitations, consented  at  the  command  of  Napoleon's 
uncle.  Cardinal  Fesch,  to  go  to  Ecouen  and  confirm 
some  of  the  orphans  of  Austerlitz,  he  was  obliged  to 
express  surprise  at  *'  the  universal  and  simple  piety  dis- 
played by  the  pupils  of  a  secular  establishment."  Of 
her  own  religious  convictions,  Mme  Campan  said  : 
"  I  dearly  love  the  simplicity  of  my  own  faith ;  I 
revere  it,  but  I  hate  anything  approaching  fanaticism." 
She  was  religious  in  the  very  best  sense  of  the  term. 
A  woman  who  had  no  religion  would  never  have 
said  as  she  did  : — 

*'  As  soon  as  a  little  child  can  speak  clearly,  teach 
it  to  pray  to  God.  Let  it  learn  to  love  Him  and 
thank  Him  for  His  kindness;  later,  when  you  teach 
it  Bible  History,  you  can  teach  it  how  to  fear 
Him." 

Mme  Campan's  work,  Lettres  dedeux  jeunes  amies, 
describes  the  daily  existence  of  the  children  of  the 
Legion  of  Honour.  The  would-be  pupils  and  their 
relatives,  on  being  ushered  into  Mme  Campan's 
parlour,  were  expected  to  produce  their  papers  of 
identification,  after  which  a  young   lady  carrying   a 

300 


A  DAY  AT  ECOUEN 

huge  bunch  of  keys,  appeared  and  took  the  pupils  to 
be  introduced  to  their  future  companions. 

*'As  I  had  caught  cold  in  Paris,"  relates  the 
heroine  of  the  above-mentioned  work,  "  my  mother,  on 
reaching  Ecouen,  had  requested  that  I  might  be  put 
to  bed  in  the  infirmary.  I  am  now  quite  well  again, 
and  I  sleep  in  a  dormitory  close  to  the  bell  which 
gives  the  signal  for  lessons  to  begin.  At  six  o'clock 
this  morning  I  heard  a  prodigious  noise  ;  I  was  vastly 
alarmed ;  however,  I  thrust  my  head  under  the 
blankets  and  quickly  fell  asleep  again.  But  I  soon 
heard  somebody  calling  me  by  my  name  ;  I  put  my  head 
out  and  beheld  the  lady-superintendent,  fully  dressed, 
standing  at  the  foot  of  my  bed.  My  companions  were 
already  up  and  ready  to  go  into  school.  So  there 
was  nothing  for  it  but  to  dress  myself,  which  I 
did  with  one  eye  open  and  the  other  shut ;  in  my 
haste  I  put  on  my  pinbefore  inside  out,  for  which  act 
I  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  my  comrades  burst  out 
a-laughing  at  me.  A  second  ringing  of  bells  gave 
the  signal  for  prayers,  whereupon  we  are  made  to 
walk  sedately  two  by  two  to  our  classroom.  I  was  so 
bold  as  to  ask  the  lady-superintendent  why  she  made 
us  walk  in  such  a  ridiculous  procession  ;  she  replied 
that,  without  this  precaution,  the  children  would  knock 
themselves  against  the  doors  and  might  even  hurt 
themselves.  After  prayers,  the  bell  rang  again,  this 
time  for  Mass.  All  my  comrades  went  to  a  cupboard 
to  fetch  their  prayer  books,  after  which  we  were  again 
made  to  fall  into  line.  Mass  finished,  the  bell  rang 
for  breakfast ;  but  what  a  breakfast !  With  the  ex- 
ception of  those  in  delicate  health,  to  whom  the  nurses 
carried  chocolate,  we  were  given  milk  ;  another  day 

301 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

we  shall  have  either  jam  or  fruit.  Would  it  not  be 
much  nicer  if  each  one  could  have  what  she  prefers, 
either  coffee,  chocolate,  or  jam  ?  But  we  are  even 
deprived  of  the  satisfaction  of  having  money  in  our 
possession,  for  we  cannot  buy  what  we  like. 

"  To-morrow  I  shall  have  to  get  one  of  my 
comrades  to  wake  me,  for  I  have  been  told  that  I 
shall  have  to  wash  and  dress  Victorine  (her  little 
sister).  I  have  had  to  mark  all  my  linen  ;  I  was  sent 
to  the  matron's  room  to  make  my  own  frocks, 
pinbefores,  velvet  bonnet  and  cap.  I  did  not  expect 
to  become  a  dressmaker,  and  it  seems  to  me  that  the 
parents'  wishes  as  to  their  daughters'  education  are 
not  consulted.  That  cruel  bell  has  just  rung  again  ; 
it  never  ceases  to  ring  for  some  lesson  or  the  other  ; 
I  could  forgive  it  for  its  vile  noise  if  it  would  only  ring 
a  little  oftener  for  recreation.  It  rings  ten  minutes 
before  dinner,  so  that  we,  like  common  serving- 
wenches,  may  fulfil  the  agreeable  task  of  dusting  cur 
desks  and  sweeping  out  the  classrooms  ;  then  it 
rings  for  dinner,  supper,  and  bedtime  ;  but  the  most 
horrible  of  all  its  ringings  is  when  it  wakes  us  in  the 
morning.  Everything  here  goes  by  clockwork.  Oh  ! 
how  I  regret  my  little  room  at  Valence,  so  quiet,  so 
removed  from  all  street-sounds.  How  silly  I  was 
to  grumble  at  the  poor  cock  which,  it  is  true,  awoke 
me  most  mornings,  but  at  least  allowed  me  to  turn 
over  and  go  to  sleep  again !  Here  three  hundred 
persons  have  to  behave  like  one,  and  to  obey  one 
command  given  by  one  person. 

"  There  are  other  revolting  and  fidgety  rules. 
Would  you  believe  it  ?  If  we  want  to  go  anywhere 
and  we  are   not  walking  in  procession,  we   have  to 

302 


AN  EXCELLENT  RULE 

hold  in  our  hand  a  little  label  on  which  is  written  the 
word :  matron's  room,  linen-closet,  music-room,  or 
wherever  else  we  want  to  go.  If  a  governess  meets 
a  child  without  this  passport,  she  can  seize  it  by  the 
hand  and  take  it  off  to  Madame  la  directrice ;  you 
can  imagine  that  a  visit,  under  such  circumstances,  is 
not  attended  with  much  pleasure." 

In  her  book,  De  H Education,  Mme  Campan  ex- 
plains her  reason  for  making  her  pupils  walk  two  by 
two.  At  first  the  children  at  Saint-Germain  were 
allowed  to  go  in  and  out  of  the  classrooms  as  they 
liked,  but  one  day  after  dinner  a  showman  with  some 
performing  dogs  asked  permission  to  enter  the 
courtyard  of  the  Hotel  de  Rohan,  whereupon  all  the 
little  ones  rushed  to  the  door  in  order  to  look  at  the 
four-footed  actors.  One  of  the  babies  stumbled  and 
fell  to  the  ground  without  her  schoolfellows  noticing 
what  had  happened ;  several  others  pressed  forward 
so  eagerly  that  they  stepped  on  the  prostrate  little  one, 
hurting  it  very  severely.  In  future  the  children  had 
to  walk  two  and  two. 

There  was  one  rule  at  Ecouen  which  was  cal- 
culated to  develop  the  maternal  instincts  :  each  big 
girl  had  to  take  care  of  a  little  one,  and,  as  the 
children  were  sent  as  young  as  possible  to  the 
establishment,  it  frequently  happened  that  the  child 
was  scarcely  more  than  a  baby,  which  the  big  girl 
had  to  get  up  in  the  morning,  wash,  dress,  and  tell 
what  it  had  to  do  during  the  day  ;  then  in  the  evening 
the  big  girl  had  to  ask  the  little  one  how  it  had 
behaved,  blame  or  praise  it,  as  the  case  might  be — in 
fact,  act  the  part  of  a  mother.  For  Napoleon's 
intention,    in    founding    the     Imperial     Educational 

303 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

Establishment  at  Ecouen,  was  not  merely  to  give  the 
orphans  of  his  brave  servants  a  comfortable  home, 
but  to  provide  wives  for  his  future  heroes.  Was  not 
dear  Madame  Mere  married  at  fourteen  years  of  age 
and  the  mother  of  four  spirited  children  before  she 
was  twenty — and  very  proud  of  the  fact?  Mme 
Campan  held  that  a  wife  should  know  how  to 
manage  her  household :  "  The  cares  of  the  home 
concern  women  ;  a  good  housewife  should  take  pride 
in  providing  her  husband  with  excellent  food.  A 
man  who  works  all  day  cannot  attend  to  such  matters  ; 
and  if  the  wife  neglects  them,  she  will  ruin  her 
home,  and  will  force  her  husband  to  pass  his  time  in 
wine-shops."  The  pupils  at  Ecouen  had  to  learn  to 
cook,  to  sweep  out  their  classrooms,  make  their  own 
clothes,  wait  at  table,  give  out  the  clean  linen,  etc. 

The  costume — it  is  practically  unchanged  to- 
day at  the  sister-establishment  of  Saint-Denis — 
consisted  of  a  black  stuff  frock  with  a  white  collar ; 
each  class  wore  a  distinctive  sash  :  the  older  girls 
wore  red  and  white  ;  those  who  had  not  yet  mastered 
their  grammar  wore  blue,  while  the  tiny  ones  (and 
they  must  have  been  specially  dear  to  Maman 
Campan's  heart)  wore  green  sashes  until  they  had 
learnt  the  difference  between  M  and  N. 

The  children's  relations  were  permitted  to  visit 
them  on  Sundays  and  Thursdays,  when  Mme 
Campan  proudly  writes  :  **  There  are  sometimes  as 
many  as  fifty  visitors  in  the  parlours ! "  So  strict 
was  the  watch  kept  over  the  pupils  that  they  were 
not  allowed  to  write  to  their  girl-friends  without 
permission,  and  such  luxuries  so  dear  to  the  hearts  of 
little  girls  as  rose-coloured  note-paper  adorned  with 

304 


THE  LOST  BOWER 

cupids  or  perhaps  a  portrait  of  the  Great  Napoleon, 
were  at  once  confiscated. 

When  a  child  had  given  special  satisfaction  to  her 
teachers,  she  was  allowed  to  go  in  state  with  her 
comrades  to  the  park,  where  she  solemnly  planted  a 
young  tree  which  in  future  was  to  bear  her  name 
and  to  be  tended  by  her  hands  alone.  Long  years 
afterwards,  when  the  master-mind  which  had  con- 
ceived this  institution  had  been  extinguished,  some  of 
Maman  Campan's  former  nestlings,  now  wives  and 
mothers  themselves,  paid  a  visit  to  the  old  school 
at  Ecouen  and  tried  to  evoke  the  past ;  they  found 
the  gravel  walks  down  which  they  had  bowled  their 
hoops,  played  hide-and-seek,  and  chased  the  many- 
coloured  butterflies,  covered  with  moss  ;  the  park  was 
full  of  dead  branches,  untidy  undergrowth,  and  ugly 
weeds,  while  the  trees  which  had  borne  the  pupils' 
names  had  either  disappeared  or  were  hidden  under 
shrouds  of  ivy.  Gone  was  the  happy  playground, 
the  lost  bower  of  childhood  : — 

"  I  affirm  that  since  I  lost  it. 

Never  bower  has  seemed  so  fair — 

Never  garden-creeper  crossed  it. 
With  so  deft  and  brave  an  air — 

Never  bird  sung  in  the  summer 
As  I  saw  and  heard  them  there." 

The  rule  at  Ecouen  was  :  ''  Be  quicker  to  praise 
than  to  blame."  Punishments  were  not  to  be  over- 
frequent.  Mme  Campan  had  a  wholesome  dread  of 
severity  where  little  girls  were  concerned:  ''Cold 
water  thrown  in  the  face  of  a  naughty  child,"  said 
she,  "  is  a  sure  but  dangerous  cure  for  a  fit  of  temper. 
I  knew  a  gentleman  who  did  this  to  one  of  his 
u  305 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

daughters,  whereupon  she  was  instantly  seized  with 
an  attack  of  hoarseness  from  which  she  suffered  for 
the  rest  of  her  life." 

Mme  Campan  was  fond  of  relating  the  following 
anecdote  : — 

"A  little  girl  of  nine  years  having  gone  with 
her  parents  to  spend  the  fete  of  Corpus  Christi  in  a 
country  house  near  Paris,  was  tempted  to  steal  a  watch 
belonging  to  one  of  her  little  friends  ;  she  yielded  to  the 
criminal  desire.  The  watch  was  sought  for  every- 
where ;  it  was  found,  and  the  thief  discovered.  The 
poor  parents,  overwhelmed  with  grief  and  shame,  con- 
demned the  little  culprit  to  walk  in  the  procession  of 
Corpus  Christi  carrying  a  board  on  which  these  words 
were  written  :  /  stole  a  watch.  The  terrified  culprit 
submitted  to  this  fearful  punishment.  She  returned 
home  with  her  parents  without  having  uttered  a  single 
word  or  shed  one  tear.  Having  crossed  a  poultry-yard 
where  she  found  a  serving-wench  to  whom  she  said  : 
'Adieu,  Marianne,  I  am  disgraced,'  she  entered  a 
thicket  in  which  there  was  a  pond,  flung  herself  into 
it  and  was  instantly  drowned." 

Another  and  a  less  tragic  anecdote,  evoking  the 
charming  but  frivolous  Court  of  Versailles,  was  often 
related  by  Mme  Campan  to  those  of  her  friends  who 
could  remember  the  ancien  rSgime.  The  mardchale 
de  Beauvau,  the  daughter  of  the  due  de  Rohan- 
Chabot,  had  been  educated  at  the  convent  of  Port- 
Royal,  whither  the  most  illustrious  families  in  France 
sent  their  daughters.  A  little  girl  of  six  years  of  age 
having  been  so  wicked  as  to  steal  an  dcu  worth  six 
francs,  the  nuns  had  a  grand  confabulation  in  order  to 
punish  the  culprit  so  that   she  would   never   forget. 

306 


A  TERRIBLE  PUNISHMENT 

The  little  girl  was  sentenced  to  be  hung,  that  is  to 
say,  she  was  placed  in  a  wicker  basket,  which  was 
then  suspended  from  the  ceiling  of  the  classroom. 
While  she  was  thus  imprisoned,  her  governesses 
and  schoolfellows  entered  the  room  and  walked 
to  and  fro  under  the  basket  chanting  the  De 
Profundis.  When  it  was  little  Mile  de  Rohan- 
Chabot's  turn  to  approach  the  impromptu  prison,  she 
turned  up  her  face  and  called  out :  '*  Are  you  dead  ?  " 
whereupon  the  unrepentant  sinner  replied  through  the 
twigs  of  the  basket :  ''Not  yet !  " 

And  when  in  after  years  the  marechale  de  Beauvau 
met  the  little  heroine  of  this  incident  in  the  gilded 
salons  of  Versailles,  she  never  failed  to  greet  the 
pendue  with  this  question  :  *'  Are  you  dead  ?  "  that  she 
might  hear  the  cheery  reply  :  ''  Not  yet !  " 

Mme  Campan  found  that  as  a  rule  it  was  quite 
sufficient  punishment  to  make  the  pupils  eat  their 
meals  alone  on  a  little  wooden  table  without  any  table- 
cloth, with  a  label  above  to  show  what  fault  had  caused 
this  humiliation.  On  such  occasions  the  offender  was 
served  at  the  same  time  as  her  companions,  but  tears 
usually  took  away  her  appetite.  Such  a  punishment 
was  meted  out  to  any  pupil  who  had  been  given 
twelve  bad  marks  during  the  course  of  two  or  three 
days.  Temporary  confiscation  of  the  coloured  sash 
was  found  efficient  in  the  case  of  more  trifling  faults. 
But  the  worst  punishment  of  all,  truly  a  horrible  one, 
was  only  once  employed  during  Mme  Campan's  reign 
at  Ecouen. 

Napoleon  had  decreed  that  any  pupil  convicted  of 
a  very  serious  fault  should  be  deprived  of  her  coloured 
sash   in   the   presence   of  all    her   fellow-pupils   and 

307 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

teachers,  and  never  allowed  to  wear  it  again.  On  the 
one  and  awful  occasion  when  this  punishment  was 
inflicted,  the  three  hundred  pupils,  fifty  governesses, 
and  all  the  servants  having  formed  into  a  square  in 
the  courtyard  of  the  building,  the  culprit  was  brought 
and  made  to  stand,  pale  and  trembling,  on  the  black 
marble  cross  on  the  pavement,  representing  the  cross 
of  the  Legion  of  Honour,  when  Mme  Campan  ap- 
peared and  gravely  unfastened  the  child's  sash  to  show 
that  she  had  ceased  to  be  worthy  of  the  Emperors 
protection — whereupon  the  unhappy  litde  creature  fell 
to  the  ground  in  a  swoon. 

In  order  to  cure  untidy  habits,  Mme  Campan 
recommended  surprise  visits  to  the  pupils*  chests  of 
drawers  and  wardrobes.  At  first  she  planned  to  teach 
the  girls  how  to  make  preserves  and  wash  and  iron 
their  own  linen ;  however,  she  soon  found  that  more 
fruit  went  down  the  children's  throats  than  into  the 
jam-pots,  and  that  when  muslin  pinafores  and  caps 
come  in  contact  with  over-heated  irons  the  results  are 
apt  to  be  disastrous. 

It  is  to  be  feared  that  the  good  dame's  ideas  con- 
cerning personal  cleanliness  would  be  considered  quite 
prehistoric  by  a  modern  schoolmistress. 

*'  For  a  dormitory  containing  thirty  beds,"  says 
she,  "six  foot-tubs  should  be  provided,  so  that  every 
morning  six  children  can  wash  their  feet ;  in  this 
manner  each  child  takes  a  foot-bath  once  in  five  days. 
The  hands  and  teeth  should  be  cleaned  in  the  morning, 
the  face  and  the  neck  before  going  to  bed.  The  face 
should  never  be  washed  in  the  morning,  as  exposure 
to  the  outer  air  after  applying  water  is  apt  to  crack 
the  skin."     (Apparendy  it  was  considered  unnecessary 

308 


OLD  FASHIONED  IDEAS  OF  HYGIENE 

to  wash  the  "altogether  "  in  Mme  Campan  s  establish- 
ment.) "The  hair  should  not  be  allowed  to  grow 
long  until  after  the  age  of  twelve.  Schoolmistresses 
sometimes  experience  difficulty  in  persuading  mothers 
to  sacrifice  a  fine  head  of  hair  which  has  been  care- 
fully brushed  and  combed  from  the  cradle  ;  but  when 
the  reason  has  been  explained  to  the  parents,  they 
usually  give  their  consent." 

"A  proper  dormitory,"  she  says,  "ought  not  to 
contain  more  than  thirty  beds.  The  bed  of  the  super- 
intendent of  each  dormitory  ought  to  be  raised  several 
feet  on  a  sort  of  platform,  and  so  placed  that  she  can 
see  all  the  pupils'  beds  at  a  glance  ;  she  will  give  a 
bad  mark  to  any  pupil  who,  seized  with  some  stupid 
fear,  is  found  in  a  schoolfellow's  bed.  .  .  .  Children 
of  three  and  four  years  of  age,  gifted  with  a  lively 
imagination,  are  often  troubled  with  visions  before 
falling  asleep.  They  must  not  be  scolded  for  being 
frightened  ;  they  see,  or  think  they  see,  strange  and 
awful-looking  creatures  pass  before  their  gaze.  In 
this  case  we  must  not  punish  them  unjustly,  but  try  to 
reason  with  them  ;  they  must  not  be  left  alone  in  the 
dark.  .  .  .  From  April  i  to  October  i,  the  hour  of 
rising  is  fixed  at  6  a.m.  ;  from  October  i  to  April  i, 
the  hour  is  7  a.m.  .  .  ." 

After  rising,  prayers  had  to  be  said  and  the  epistle 
and  gospel  read  aloud.  Every  week  a  pupil  was 
chosen  to  teach  the  little  ones  their  alphabet.  Before 
each  meal  a  pupil  had  to  climb  up  into  a  sort  of  pulpit 
and  recite  the  Lord's  Prayer,  after  which  a  rap  on  the 
table  gave  the  signal  for  the  pupils  to  sit  down  and 
eat  their  soup  ;  another  prayer  closed  the  performance. 
Sunday,  a  delightful  day,  began  with  Mass  ; 
309 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

Vespers  and  Benediction  were  said  in  the  afternoon, 
and  then  the  pupils  were  free  to  work  in  the  garden 
and  play  games.  During  the  long  dark  winter 
evenings  some  of  the  pupils  took  turns  to  play  the 
pianoforte — an  instrument  which  Mme  Campan  re- 
commended should  be  learnt  early — while  the  little 
ones  danced.  The  elder  girls  always  spent  Sunday 
evening  in  Mme  Campan's  parlour,  where  they  read 
aloud  or  listened  to  the  conversation  of  the  directress 
and  her  friends.  The  smaller  girls  were  at  times 
allowed  as  a  reward  to  take  a  dish  of  tea  with  the 
directress,  which  must  have  been  a  great  honour ;  or 
else  they  were  admitted  to  her  own  little  garden,  where 
she  regaled  them  with  fruit  and  whipped  cream. 

The  pupils  were  always  in  bed  before  ten. 

A  sort  of  brief  examination  was  held  every  quarter, 
when,  each  girl  having  produced  a  drawing  and  a 
composition,  prizes  were  awarded ;  at  the  end  of  the 
year  they  underwent  a  severer  examination,  when  they 
were  expected  to  give  a  good  account  of  what  they 
had  learnt  during  that  time.  The  highest  award  was 
the  medal,  which  M.  de  Lac^p^de  pinned  on  the 
breast  of  the  lucky  winner. 


310 


CHAPTER   XV 

The  queen  of  Holland  pays  a  visit  to  Ecouen — Stephanie  Tascher  de 
La  Pagerie  marries  the  prince  d'Arenberg — The  Emperor's  birthday 
is  kept  by  the  Orphans  of  Austerlitz — Napoleon  comes  to  inspect 
his  protegees— The  queen  of  Holland  is  made  patroness  of  Ecouen 
— Napoleon's  divorce — Lolotte  Bonaparte  returns  to  France — Mme 
Campan  meets  with  a  serious  accident — Napoleon  and  Marie 
Louise  visit  Ecouen — France  is  invaded. 

One  of  the  first  visitors  to  Ecouen  was  Mme  Campari's 
favourite  pupil,  the  queen  of  Holland.  She  was 
received  with  great  ceremony  at  the  door  of  the  chapel 
by  the  directress,  the  governesses,  and  the  chaplains  ; 
after  having  heard  Mass,  when  the  pupils  sang  the 
Domine  Salvuin,  she  lunched  in  Mme  Campan's 
private  sitting-room,  had  a  long  chat  over  old  times, 
and  presented  the  governess  who  had  helped  Mme 
Campan  to  do  the  honours  of  the  establishment  with 
a  ring.  When  lunch  was  over,  she  asked  to  witness 
the  distribution  of  bread  and  meat  to  twenty-four  poor 
women  belonging  to  the  village  of  Ecouen,  which 
took  place  four  times  a  week  and  was  paid  for  by  the 
pupils.  Hortense  was  so  touched  by  the  spectacle  of 
two  pupils,  their  black  dresses  covered  by  white  aprons, 
ministering  to  the  poor,  that  she,  on  saying  good-bye, 
left  600  francs  to  be  spent  in  a  similar  manner. 

The  month  of  March  1808  saw  the  last  of 
Napoleon's  lightning  marriages,  the  marriage  of 
another  of  Mme  Cam  pan's  former  pupils — but  not  to 

311 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

M.  de  Chaumont-Quitry,  to  whom  Stephanie  Tascher 
de  La  Pagerie,  Josephine's  cousin  and  god-daughter, 
had  been  engaged  for  two  years.  That  honest  fellow, 
Rapp,  had  asked  for  her  hand  during  the  Consulate 
and  been  refused  by  Mme  Bonaparte,  who  had  not 
considered  him  a  sufficiently  good  parti.  Mile 
Tascher  had  to  thank  Napoleon  for  a  very  bitter 
experience,  for,  as  in  the  case  of  her  cousins  Hortense 
and  Stephanie  de  Beauharnais,  her  marriage  was  to 
prove  an  utter  failure.  The  prince  d'Arenberg,  at 
that  time  a  colonel  in  the  French  army,  was  rather  a 
favourite  with  Napoleon.  The  latter  one  day  sent  for 
the  prince  and,  having  assured  him  of  his  friendship, 
delivered  himself  of  this  astounding  piece  of  news  : — 

"  You  shall  marry  to-morrow  !  " 

"Sire,"  replied  his  astonished  visitor,  *'  I  regret  to 
say  that  I  am  not  free  to  marry,  for  my  affianced  bride 
expects  me  to  keep  my  word  :  we  are  pledged  to  one 
another  for  life." 

But  this  excuse  was  as  useless  and  empty  as  when 
employed  by  Davout  on  a  previous  and  similar 
occasion. 

"  Well,  get  disengaged  !  "  remarked  Napoleon.  "  I 
expect  you  to  marry  to-morrow.  If  you  refuse,  we 
shall  send  you  to  the  fortress  of  Vincennes." 

As  the  prince  had  no  desire  to  become  familiar 
with  the  topography  of  that  depressing  place,  he 
obeyed. 

Napoleon  did  his  duty  to  the  bride  when  he  gave 
her  a  trousseau  valued  at  40,000  francs.  The  bill  of 
the  then  fashionable  dressmaker,  Mme  Lenormand, 
included  such  items  as  25,000  francs  worth  of  under- 
clothing,   627    francs    for    gloves   and    hosiery,    and 

312 


ANOTHER  PUPIL  MARRIES 

several  dresses  embroidered  in  gold  and  silver,  each 
costing  from  5000  to  6000  francs. 

The  marriage  took  place,  according  to  Napoleon's 
orders,  on  the  morrow  at  midnight  in  the  Luynes- 
d'Arenberg  mansion,^  the  festivities  concluding  with  a 
ball  at  which  the  whole  Court  assisted,  when  it  was 
remarked  that,  although  Napoleon  opened  the  ball 
and  danced  several  times  with  the  bride,  he  never 
once  invited  the  Empress  to  dance. 

An  unexpected  and  unrehearsed  scene  caused 
consternation  among  the  guests  when  the  bride, 
having  bowed  stiffly  to  her  bridegroom,  retired  and 
locked  herself  into  her  own  apartment. 

The  prince  d'Arenberg's  respect  for,  or  rather 
dread  of,  his  wife's  relatives  did  not  prevent  him  later 
murmuring  at  the  way  in  which  she  had  treated  him, 
a  married  man  with  no  rights  or  power  over  his  wife. 
However,  when  Napoleon,  too,  was  deprived  of  his 
rights  and  power,  the  princess  d'Arenberg  got  her 
marriage  annulled  by  Rome,  and  married  her  former 
fianc4  the  comte  de  Chaumont-Quitry. 

The  routine  at  Ecouen  was  varied  by  several  fetes. 
Carnival  was  kept  according  to  tradition.  For  many 
days  previous  to  Shrove  Tuesday,  the  young  ladies 
spent  every  spare  moment  in  cutting  out  and  gluing 
costumes  in  multi-coloured  paper.  On  the  great  day, 
the  pupils,  dressed  as  wild  Indians  and  Esquimaux, 
were  given  an  excellent  dinner  of  fat  capons, — which 
had  likewise  been  preparing  for  Carnival, — tartlets 
and  creams  in  the  Salle  Hortense,  specially  illuminated 
and  decorated  for  the  occasion,  after  which  the  girls 

^  Some  authors  assert  that  the  marriage  was  celebrated  in  Louis 
Bonaparte's  hotel  in  the  rue  Cerutti,  Paris. 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

marched  round  the  hall   and  then  danced  quadrilles 
until  midnight. 

Corpus  Christi  was  another  feast ;  this  fete,  which 
takes  place  in  June  at  a  time  when  all  Nature  is 
singing  the  praises  of  the  Creator,  is  the  most  charm- 
ing in  the  Church  year.  An  altar  was  always  erected 
at  one  end  of  the  garden.  The  procession  was  headed 
by  the  servants,  dressed  in  neat  black  dresses,  carrying 
the  crucifix ;  then  came  the  banner  of  the  Virgin 
Mary,  borne  by  girls  chosen  for  their  good  conduct, 
wearing  blue  sashes  :  the  canopy  was  carried  by  girls 
in  crimson  and  white  sashes,  while  fifty  of  the  youngest 
pupils,  wearing  white  muslin  veils  and  wreaths  of 
cornflowers  on  their  heads,  scattered  Maman  Campan's 
sweetest  blossoms  before  the  Holy  Sacrament.  Mme 
Campan  and  the  chancellor,  M.  de  Lacdpede,  followed, 
together  with  the  governesses  and  the  other  pupils, 
singing  hymns. 

The  birthday  of  the  Emperor,  to  whom  the  little 
pupils  owed  this  pleasant  home,  was  celebrated  on 
August  15  by  a  grand  Mass,  at  which  the  bishop  of 
Troyes,  the  Emperor's  own  chaplain,  and  the  six 
chaplains  belonging  to  the  establishment,  ofificiated. 
A  magnificent  dinner — including  the  inevitable  tartlets 
and  creams — was  then  given  to  the  pupils,  attired  in 
their  best  clothes,  Mme  Campan  inviting  fifty  ladies 
to  dine  with  her,  when  the  Emperor's  health  was 
drunk  with  enthusiasm.  The  chateau  was  illuminated 
in  the  evening,  and  the  pupils  and  some  of  the  younger 
governesses  danced  to  the  sound  of  a  piano  and  a  violin. 

It  was  a  sad  anniversary  that  of  the  battle  of 
Austerlitz,  when  so  many  of  the  pupils  had  been 
orphaned,  which  was  kept  on  December  2  by  order 

314 


THE  EMPEROR  VISITS  ECOUEN 

of  the  lord-chancellor,  M.  de  Lac^pede.  After  hearing 
Mass,  the  whole  establishment  walked  in  procession 
to  the  park,  where  the  head  of  the  senior  class  and 
the  head  of  the  junior  class  solemnly  planted  two 
young  trees  ornamented  with  the  colours,  of  the  Legion 
of  Honour. 

In  February  1809  an  epidemic  of  measles  broke 
out  among  the  pupils  at  Ecouen  ;  as  more  than  one 
hundred  children  were  ill  at  one  time,  several  dormitories 
had  to  be  turned  into  hospital  wards.  So  carefully 
were  the  children  nursed  by  Maman  Campan  and  her 
assistants,  that  only  three  died.  One  of  these  be- 
longed to  the  classe  violette — that  is  to  say,  she  wore  a 
violet  sash.  When  the  dead  girl's  little  sister  heard 
that  her  big  sister  was  no  more,  she  was  heart-broken, 
and  gathered  up  several  articles  which  had  belonged 
to  the  dear  dead  one,  wept  over  them,  and  refused  to 
be  parted  from  them. 

Ever  since  the  establishment  had  been  opened, 
Mme  Campan  had  been  hoping  that  the  Emperor 
would  come  and  see  for  himself  how  she  had  acquitted 
herself  of  the  task  confided  to  her  motherly  heart. 
Another  extract  from  Les  Lettres  de  deux  amies 
describes  a  surprise  visit  which  was  made,  March 
4,  1809:— 

''Madame  la  directrice  was  walking  in  the  garden 
when  she  saw  a  page  and  several  grooms  wearing 
Napoleon's  livery  approach  the  house  ;  somebody  ran 
to  summon  her,  whereupon  she  hastened  to  the 
wicket-gate.  The  page  informed  her  that  the  Emperor 
was  coming  to  Ecouen,  and  that  he  would  arrive  in 
a  few  minutes ;  upon  hearing  which  all  the  ladies 
flocked  round  Mme  Campan,  asking  what  they  were 

315 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

to  do.  Were  they  to  dress  the  children  ?  Where 
were  they  to  stand  ?  What  were  they  to  do  ?  There 
was  no  time  to  make  the  children  put  on  their  best 
clothes.  *  To  the  classrooms,  and  every  lady  to  her 
post ! '  was  the  word  of  command.  The  chancellor, 
whom  Napoleon  had  only  informed  at  eleven  o'clock 
that  morning  that  he  was  going  to  Ecouen,  luckily 
arrived  a  few  minutes  before  his  master. 

"  At  half-past  twelve  the  Emperor's  carriage 
entered  the  courtyard  ;  he  was  accompanied  by  the 
prince  de  Neufchatel,^  the  other  members  of  his  suite 
occupying  a  second  carriage.  His  Excellence  the 
chancellor  and  Madame  la  directrice  received  the 
founder  of  Ecouen  under  the  great  porch.  He  first 
walked  through  the  refectories  and  the  classrooms  on 
the  ground  floor ;  he  put  some  very  easy  questions  to 
several  of  the  little  ones,  to  which  they  replied  very 
nicely,  displaying  scarcely  any  timidity.  Napoleon 
examined  the  stockings  which  the  little  pupils  were 
knitting,  opened  them,  slipped  his  hand  into  them 
and  turned  them  inside  out,  just  as  if  he  were  a  good 
housewife.  While  Napoleon  was  inspecting  the 
dormitories,  the  studio,  the  infirmary,  and  the 
dispensary,  we  were  made  to  take  our  places  in  the 
chapel ;  the  clergy  then  walked  in  procession,  carrying 
the  crucifix,  to  meet  him  outside  the  porch,  and  make 
a  speech.  The  head  chaplain's  discourse  was  simple 
and  deeply  touching.  Napoleon  then  went  and  knelt 
in  the  place  reserved  for  him  ;  he  rose  from  his  knees 
when  we  began  to  sing  a  hymn  which  he  had  never 
before  heard  sung  by  so  many  fresh  young  voices, 
and  which  seemed  to  give  him  pleasure. 

1  Berthier. 
316 


NAPOLEON  REVIEWS  THE  PUPILS 

"  On  leaving  the  chapel,  our  benefactor  went  to  look 
at  the  north  terrace.  We  were  then  made  to  stand 
in  two  long  rows,  reaching  from  the  chateau  to  the 
park. 

"  '  I  do  not  often  assist  at  such  reviews,'  remarked 
Napoleon ;  *  these  young  people  all  look  in  good 
health.' 

**  When  somebody  replied  with  reason  that  it  was 
due  to  the  pure  air,  Napoleon  added  : — 

** '  And  to  good  care  ! ' 

**  This  remark  was  repeated  by  the  ladies,  who 
felt  much  flattered.  When  he  to  whom  we  owe  so 
much  reached  the  end  of  the  path,  Madame  la 
directrice  asked  him  if  he  would  allow  some  of  the 
pupils  to  dance  in  his  presence,  as  we  were  accustomed 
to  do  on  fete-days. 

"Certainly!'  replied  he  ;  'let  them  dance,  by  all 
means.' 

"The  pupils  immediately  began  to  dance  all  along 

the  path.     Mile  Caroline  de  R sang  a  solo,  which 

the  pupils  then  repeated  in  chorus. 

"  Napoleon  listened  attentively  to  the  following 
verses : — 

"'Cette  plume  qui  donna 
Des  lors  k  I'Europe  enti^re, 
Dans  un  reglement  traga^ 
Nos  devoirs,  notre  pri^re, 
Quand  de  son  nom  belliqueux 
II  fait  retentir  la  terre, 
Ici  nos  plus  simples  jeux 
L'interessent  comme  un  p^re.* 


^  In  reference  to  a  fourteen-page  memorandum  concerning  his 
plans  for  the  education  of  the  daughters  of  his  brave  soldiers,  which 
Napoleon,  one  evening  after  winning  a  battle  in  Poland,  had  dictated 
to  one  of  his  aides-de-camp. 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

**  The  word  father,  uttered  by  a  multitude  of 
children  who  owed  to  Napoleon  that  inestimable  benefit, 
a  good  education,  and  this  assembly  of  young  girls, 
the  fathers  of  many  of  whom  had  already  terminated 
their  career  or  who  still  served  under  the  flag,  seemed 
to  make  a  deep  impression  upon  him ;  his  face 
betrayed  his  emotion. 

**  The  dance  over,  Napoleon  ordered  Madame  la 
directrice  to  give  him  the  names  of  the  four  most 
obedient  and  most  industrious  pupils.  She  was 
visibly  embarrassed  ;  such  a  matter  is  both  difficult 
and  pleasing  ;  however,  we  all  applauded  her  choice. 

"  '  I  give  each  of  these  young  ladies,'  said  he,  *  a 
pension  of  400  francs  as  a  proof  of  my  pleasure.  * 

**The  pupils  then  went  to  dinner.  Napoleon 
entered  the  refectory  and  went  and  stood  beneath  the 
pulpit,  when  the  pupil  who  had  to  read  that  day  finished 
the  Lord's  Prayer  with  a  special  prayer  for  him. 
He  looked  up  at  her,  and  was  so  kind  as  to  bow  to 
her.  He  then  asked  several  questions  concerning 
our  meals  ;  he  asked  what  treats  we  were  given  on 
fete-days.  Madame  la  directrice  replied  that  we  were 
allowed  either  tartlets  or  creams. 

"  'Well,  then,'  replied  he,  'next  Sunday  you  must 
celebrate  my  visit  by  giving  them  both  tartlets  and 
creams ! ' 

"Just  as  Napoleon  was  about  to  get  into  his  car- 
riage, he  deigned  to  inform  his  Excellence  the  chan- 
cellor that  he  was  going  to  attend  to  the  organiza- 
tion of  other  educational  establishments  for  the 
daughters  of  knights  of  the  Legion  of  Honour,  and 
that  our  house  was  only  a  temporary  institution.  This 
remark  must  have  delighted  his  Excellence,  who,  for 

318 


IMPERIAL  SUGARPLUMS 

the  last  two  years,  has  been  working  with  zeal  and 
perseverance  at  a  very  different  task  to  that  which 
usually  occupies  his  time.  ...  I  have  just  been  inter- 
rupted by  loud  cries  and  the  clapping  of  many  pairs 
of  hands  ;  on  going  to  ascertain  what  was  happening, 
I  saw  all  the  girls  assembled  in  the  courtyard  ;  they 
were  gazing  in  rapture  at  a  number  of  baskets  con- 
taining at  least  twenty  different  kinds  of  jams  and 
sugar-plums  sent  by  Napoleon  to  Madame  la  directrice 
for  Sunday's  feast.  .  .  .  The  little  ones  are  really 
vastly  entertaining :  one  of  them,  on  seeing  the  first 
basket  of  sugar-plums  unpacked,  cried  :  '  Oh  !  what  a 
fine  thing  it  must  be  to  be  a  conqueror !  he  must  be 
able  to  eat  as  many  sugar-plums  as  he  likes ! '  .  .  ." 

Napoleon  had  put  a  very  poignant  question  to 
Mme  Campan  on  taking  leave  of  her  and  her  children. 

"  Why,"  asked  he,  "  did  the  old  system  of  educat- 
ing girls  in  France  prove  a  failure  1 " 

"It  was  because  they  lacked  good  mothers!" 
quoth  Marnan  Campan. 

"Well  said,"  exclaimed  Napoleon,  himself  the  son 
of  a  good  mother  ;  "let  our  Frenchmen  owe  to  you  the 
education  of  the  future  mothers  of  their  children  !  " 

Before  many  weeks  had  elapsed.  Napoleon  had 
decreed  the  formation  of  five  other  educational  establish- 
ments for  girls,  viz.  :  Saint-Denis  and  Mont  VaMrien, 
both  outside  Paris  ;  Les  Loges,  at  Saint-Germain  ; 
Les  Barbeaux,  near  Melun  ;  and  Pont-a-Mousson,  in 
the  department  of  Meurthe-et-Moselle. 

As  at  Saint-Germain,  Mme  Campan  gathered 
round  her  all  the  best  teachers  of  the  day  ;  from  London 
she  summoned  a  well-known  pianist  and  harpist,  a 
certain    Frenchwoman   of  the   name  of  Laval,  who, 

319 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

although  able  to  earn  ;^I200  a  year,  was  always  in 
debt ;  when  inviting  this  lady  to  return  to  her  native 
land,  Mme  Campan  said  that  she  could  not  afford  to 
pay  her  a  very  high  salary,  but  that  she  hoped,  as  living 
was  less  expensive  in  France,  Mme  Laval  would  accept 
her  offer.  Let  us  hope  that  Mme  Laval  turned  over 
a  new  leaf,  and  was  not  like  some  of  Mme  Campan's 
teachers,  who  had  to  be  dismissed  lest  their  bad 
example  should  corrupt  the  little  girls'  morals. 

In  April,  Napoleon  appointed  Mme  Campan's  former 
pupil,  the  queen  of  Holland,  as  the  patroness  of  Ecouen. 

Mme  Campan,  with  a  salary  of  15,000  francs,  was 
now  on  the  topmost  wave  of  prosperity.  The  establish- 
ment at  Ecouen  became  one  of  the  "sights"  of  the 
day  and  was  visited  by  people  from  many  lands,  in- 
cluding the  king  of  Bavaria,  the  viceroy  of  Italy 
(Hortense's  brother  Eugene),  and  Caroline  Murat, 
now  queen  of  Naples,  who,  on  returning  to  their  own 
countries,  founded  similar  institutions. 

The  number  of  girls'  schools  in  and  around  Paris 
had  grown  enormously  during  the  last  few  years  ; 
many  of  these  were  day-schools.  Mme  Campan  held 
that  boarding-schools  for  young  ladies  ought  to  be 
situated  outside  the  city,  and  not,  as  was  frequently  the 
case  in  those  days,  in  the  upper  floors  of  a  big  build- 
ing inhabited  on  the  entrance  floor  by  a  notary 
employing  several  clerks,  with  possible  and  very 
probable  consequences — flirtations  between  romantic 
misses  and  underfed  quill-drivers,  in  the  throes  of 
calf-love  and  with  a  taste  for  poetry. 

Mme  Campan  proposed  that  the  number  of  girls' 
schools  should  be  limited  : — 

*•  The  two  sexes  would  then  no  longer  study  to- 

320 


LUCIEN  REFUSES  TO  MAKE  FRIENDS 

gether,  and  girls  would  only  be  taken  as  day-boarders 
until  they  had  made  their  First  Communion.  Little 
girls  ought  not  to  be  allowed  to  run  about  the  streets 
of  a  capital  which  offers  such  dangers  to  morality. 
Day-schools  exist  in  Philadelphia  and  New  York,  but 
boardino^-schools  are  unknown.  Schools  for  all  classes 
of  society  ought  to  be  opened.  The  poorer  classes 
would  pay  four  francs  a  month  ;  the  richer  would  pay 
twelve  francs  or  twenty-four  francs  ;  for  the  latter  class, 
drawing,  writing,  and  dancing  masters  would  be 
provided." 

Many  of  these  smaller  schools  had  failed  on  account 
of  the  dearness  of  such  necessities  as  bread  and 
vegetables ;  in  some  cases  the  pupils'  clothes  and 
trinkets  had  been  seized  to  pay  the  debts  contracted 
by  the  schoolmistresses,  and  Mme  Campan  herself 
rescued  a  friendless  girl  of  fifteen  from  a  school  while 
the  sale  of  furniture,  etc.,  was  actually  taking  place. 
It  was  for  this  reason  that  she  said  that  thirty  boarding- 
schools  kept  by  nuns  or  private  persons  ought  to 
suffice  for  Paris  and  the  suburbs,  and  sixty  day-schools 
for  the  capital  only. 

Mme  Campan's  prosperity  was  in  no  wise  injured 
by  the  divorce  of  the  woman  to  whom  she  owed  so 
much  of  that  prosperity. 

Napoleon,  immediately  after  his  divorce,  which 
took  place  in  December  1 809,  again  wrote  to  his  brother 
Lucien,  begging  him  to  reconsider  his  decision,  and 
send  Lolotte  to  Paris,  where  he  could  easily  find  a 
suitable  husband  for  her,  having  now  two  eligible 
partis,  the  prince  of  the  Asturias  and  the  grand-duke 
of  Wiirzburg,  on  hand.  At  last  in  February,  Lucien, 
unwilling  to  spoil  his  daughter's  prospects,  sent  Lolotte 
X  321 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

with  her  cousin,  Mme  Gasson,  to  Paris,  where  she  was 
to  lodge  with  her  grandmother. 

On  March  8,  Madame  Mere  wrote  to  her  son 
Lucien : — 

"  Lolotte  has  arrived  in  good  health.  As  soon  as 
her  wardrobe  is  in  order,  I  shall  take  her  to  see  the 
Emperor,  and  I  am  convinced  that  she  will  be  received 
very  kindly  ;  I  will  tell  you  all  about  it  on  the  morrow. 
Please  Heaven  I  may  be  enabled  to  announce  to  you 
the  only  thing  which  I  now  need  to  make  me  perfectly 
happy — namely,  your  reconciliation. 

"VOSTRA    MADRE." 

Madame  Mere  was  mistaken.  Contrary  to  his 
usual  habit,  Napoleon  treated  Mme  Campan's  former 
pupil  rather  sternly  ;  it  must  be  allowed  that  she,  alas  ! 
did  nothing  to  earn  his  affection  :  she  laughed  at  her 
suitors,  and  made  very  outspoken  remarks  concerning 
her  uncle's  Court. 

It  was  with  difficulty  that  Lucien  had  been  able 
to  force  himself  to  send  this  child — Lolotte  was  only 
just  fifteen — up  to  Paris.  He  considered  the  two 
marriages  proposed  by  his  powerful  brother  unsuit- 
able. Before  Lolotte  had  been  many  days  in  Paris, 
her  father,  dreading  lest  Napoleon  should  conclude 
another  of  his  disastrous  lightning  marriages,  wrote  to 
the  match-maker :  "  Send  her  back  to  me,  or  I  will 
set  your  commands  at  defiance  and  come  and  look 
for  her  in  the  salons  of  the  Tuileries." 

Napoleon  took  no  notice  of  this  threat. 

Imprudent  in  her  behaviour  and  conversation,  poor 
home-sick  Lolotte  was  likewise  imprudent  on  paper. 
Unfortunately  for  her,  Napoleon,  like  Queen  Marie 

322 


LOLOTTE  BONAPARTE  IN  DISGRACE 

Caroline  of  Naples,  was  fond  of  opening  other  people's 
letters  ;  so  when  he  came  upon  this  effusion  from  Mile 
Lolotte :  "  Oh !  my  little  papa,  how  wise  you  were 
not  to  come  here  !  America  would  be  a  thousand 
times  nicer,  I  am  sure  " — he  cried,  in  anger  that  his 
kindness  had  met  with  such  ingratitude  : — 

**  She  shall  go  !  I  never  want  to  hear  her  name 
mentioned  again !  She  must  leave  Paris  within 
twenty-four  hours." 

No  sooner  said  than  done.  Mile  Lolotte's  pretty 
new  clothes  were  flung  anyhow  into  her  trunk,  and 
before  another  twenty-four  hours  had  elapsed  she  had 
shaken  the  dust  of  Paris  off  her  feet. 

On  clasping  the  wanderer  to  his  heart,  Lucien 
cried  : — 

"  My  child,  I  have  made  a  great  mistake ;  but  I 
have  got  you  back  again,  so  the  harm  is  repaired." 

In  the  autumn  of  1810  the  young  ladies  of  Ecouen 
embroidered  a  magnificent  Court  costume  and  train 
for  the  new  Empress,  who  had  already  shown  an 
interest  in  the  establishment  by  begging  Mme  Campan 
to  admit  as  a  pupil  a  member  of  a  very  old  French 
family.  Mile  de  Maill^  de  Br6z6  (later  Mme  de 
Monthiers). 

It  was  about  this  time  that  Mme  Campan  met  with 
an  accident ;  while  driving  with  her  son  on  the  road 
to  Saint-Germain,  the  horse  ran  away  and  the  occupants 
of  the  carriage  were  flung  into  a  ditch.  Mme  Campan 
escaped  with  a  few  bruises,  but  her  son  was  so  badly 
hurt  that  he  did  not  recover  from  the  accident  for 
three  years. 

Mme  Campan's  ambition  was  perilously  akin  to  that 
of  the  Emperor  when   she   now  suggested  that   all 

323 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

the  girls'  boarding-schools  in  Paris  and  in  the  depart- 
ment of  the  Seine  should  be  abolished  by  January  i, 
1818,  and  the  pupils  sent  to  Ecouen  and  the  other 
Napoleonic  educational  establishments.  Alas  !  before 
that  date  the  founder  of  those  establishments  had  been 
"abolished,"  and  directresses  and  pupils  driven  from 
their  magnificent  abodes.  However,  Napoleon  wisely 
took  no  notice  of  her  suggestion. 

Mme  Campan  was  much  exercised  about  this  time 
concerning  the  fate  of  one  of  her  pupils,  a  penniless 
Mile  Bernelle,  who  nevertheless  could  boast  that  nine 
members  of  her  family  had  obtained  the  coveted  cross 
of  the  Legion  of  Honour ;  this  young  lady  had  been 
engaged  for  several  months  to  a  Captain  Guerdin  of 
the  Imperial  Guard.  Now  Napoleon  had  lately 
given  commands  that  no  officer  in  this  regiment  was 
to  marry  any  lady  who  had  not  at  least  one  hundred 
louis  income.  Mme  Campan  interceded  for  the 
lovers,  and,  after  many  rebuffs,  at  last  obtained  the 
Emperor's  consent  to  their  marriage.  She  was  less 
successful  when  she  endeavoured  to  find  a  position 
for  her  son  Henri,  who,  should  she  die  suddenly, 
would  be  penniless ;  and  yet  he  was  not  wanting  for 
friends :  did  not  Savary  say  of  him  :  *'  There  is  not 
a  public  functionary  more  esteemed  and  beloved  than 
he"? 

Mme  Campan  had  another  anxiety  in  the  person 
of  the  "all  too  pretty"  Pholo^,  whose  protector  was 
now  dead,  and  whom  Maman  Campan  for  the  last 
two  years  had  fed,  clothed,  and  educated  at  her  own 
expense.  Talleyrand  had  promised  the  prince  de 
Nassau-Siegen  to  look  after  the  child's  interests. 
This  promise,  like  many  others,  he  promptly  forgot, 

324 


MARIE  LOUISE  VISITS  ECOUEN 

and  did  not  even  take  the  trouble  to  see  that  the 
legacy  of  20,000  florins  bequeathed  to  Pholoe  by  her 
guardian  was  paid  to  her.  Realizing  that  her  son 
Henri  and  the  poor  little  orphan  would  be  almost 
friendless  at  her  death,  Mme  Campan  begged 
Hortense,  who  had  displayed  much  interest  in 
Pholoe,  to  act  as  the  child's  guardian,  and  to  continue 
to  pay  to  Henri,  after  his  mother's  death,  the  salary 
which  she  had  lately  been  in  the  habit  of  receiving. 

On  July  I,  181 1,  Napoleon  and  Marie  Louise 
paid  a  visit  to  Ecouen.  This  time  the  Emperor  came 
with  a  numerous  retinue,  consisting  of  Mmes  de 
Montebello,  de  Montmorency,  and  Talhouet,  the 
prince  de  Neufchatel,  the  dues  de  Frioul  and  de 
Vicence,  mar^chal  Mortier,  and  the  comtes  de 
Beauharnais,  de  Nicolai",  and  de  La  Briffe. 

Mme  Campan,  having  been  warned  of  the  visit, 
had  had  time  to  prepare  herself  and  her  pupils.  The 
latter,  attired  in  stiffly  starched  muslin  aprons  and 
caps,  walked  in  procession  through  the  Salle  de 
PEmpereur  to  the  entrance  to  the  chapel,  where 
Mile  Momet  spoke  an  address  to  the  founder  of  the 
imperial  establishment,  who  afterwards  accorded  her 
a  pension  of  600  francs. 

**  This  was  the  only  address,"  says  Mme  Campan. 
**  I  was  afraid  that  he  would  think  me  presuming  if 
any  of  my  own  verses  were  recited." 

The  performance  of  the  Domine  Salvum,  sung  by 
all  the  pupils,  so  pleased  the  Emperor  that  he  had  the 
singing-teacher  summoned  to  his  presence,  when  he 
praised  her  so  that  she  nearly  fainted  with  emotion. 
He  then  made  a  speech  beginning  with  these  words  : 
**  Daughters  of  my  brave  soldiers,  I  salute  you  !  "  after 

325 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMP  AN 

which  he  asked  Mme  Campan  several  questions  con- 
cerning the  funds  in  hand. 

M.  Fontaine,  the  celebrated  architect,  happened 
to  be  among  the  Emperor's  suite.  This  gentleman, 
having  remarked  that  Mme  Campan's  apartment  was 
small  and  dark.  Napoleon  gave  orders  that  another 
wing  should  be  constructed  with  a  suitable  lodging 
for  the  directress,  where  she  could  receive  her  friends, 
upon  hearing  which  that  lady  made  bold  to  ask  the 
Emperor  to  order  a  new  pump  for  the  Fontaine 
Hortense,  which  he  immediately  did. 

The  Emperor  then  asked  her  to  name  her  four 
best  pupils.  At  first  Mme  Campan  managed  to 
evade  a  reply  ;  but  Napoleon,  after  the  pupils  had 
repeated  the  dances  which  had  pleased  him  so  much 
on  the  occasion  of  his  first  visit,  returned  to  the 
subject,  and  this  time  she  was  obliged  to  name  not 
four  but  eight  of  her  best  pupils,  one  of  whom,  Mile 
Hortode,  was  in  great  distress  at  that  f'me,  as  her 
father  had  been  taken  prisoner  at  Guadaloup,  and 
was  now  in  an  English  fortress. 

The  Emperor  was  in  high  spirits.  He  praised 
everything  and  everybody.  How  did  the  successor 
to  the  Creole,  who  always  knew  what  to  say,  behave  ? 
Mme  Campan  says  : — 

''  Her  Majesty  the  Empress  made  no  speeches. 
Although  she  is  a  great  princess,  she  seems  shy,  as 
I  could  see  for  myself.  I  made  bold  to  speak  to  her 
quite  simply  as  if  I  had  already  had  the  honour  of 
meeting  her ;  she  replied  graciously.  I  told  her  that 
I  had  prepared  milk,  fruit,  and  brown  bread  for  her, 
knowing  that  her  Majesty  liked  such  things ;  to 
which  she  replied  : — 

326 


A  VISIT  TO  LA  MALMAISON 

"  *  Another  time  I  will  come  and  partake  of  some 
refreshment,  but  not  to-day,  for  I  have  a  headache ; 

1  thank  you  for  the  kind  thought/ 

"  She  then  told  me  that  she  was  pleased  with  the 
six  ladies  whom  I  had  sent  to  her  from  Ecouen/  .  .  . 
The  children  were  crazy  with  delight.  They  kept 
putting  their  little  feet  on  the  steps  and  on  the  stones 
over  which  the  Emperor  had  walked.  Even  those 
who  cannot  sing  in  tune,  and  whose  voices  are  never 
heard  in  chapel,  wanted  to  join  in  the  Domine 
Salvum\  I  really  thought  that  the  roof  would  have 
come  off!" 

Although  Mme  Campan  for  once  does  not 
mention  the  inevitable  tartlets  and  creams,  we  may 
be  sure  that  both  these  delicacies  were  included  in  the 
pupils'  menu  on  that  glorious  day,  when  the  children 
welcomed  "their  Father,"  as  they  called  him,  to  the 
pleasant  home  provided  by  his  bounty. 

Mme  Campan  was  naturally  flattered  by  the  new 
Empress's  visit  to  Ecouen,  but  she  did  not  forget  her 
old  friends. 

Hortense,  about  this  time,  had  a  road  made  from 
her  estate  at  Saint- Leu  to  Ecouen,  so  that  she  might 
see  her  "second  mother"  with  greater  ease.  Mme 
Campan  was  also  invited  by  the  ex- Empress  to 
La  Malmaison,  where  she  found  Josephine  sur- 
rounded by  her  faithful  friends  and  enjoying  the 
companionship  of  her  two  eldest  grandsons, 
Napoleon,^  who  was  afterwards  massacred  during 
a  riot  at  Forli,  and  Louis,^  to  be  known  to  history  as 
Napoleon  iii. 

^  Six  of  Mme  Campan's  ex-pupils  were  in  the  new  Empress's  suite. 

2  Napoleon-Louis,  1804-1831.        ^  Charles-Louis-Napoleon,  1808-1873. 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

**  The  Empress  was  most  kind  and  quite  charmed 
me,"  wrote  Mme  Campan  to  the  boys'  mother,  "  I 
must  confess  that  I  never  imagined  that  such  grace 
and  sensibility  could  be  united  to  so  much  common 
sense.  She  lives  surrounded  by  a  Court  which  is  as 
devoted  to  her  as  it  can  be  ;  if  she  no  longer  shines 
like  the  sun,  at  least  she  resembles  the  sweet,  calm 
star  which  follows  it.  I  found  the  princes  at  La 
Malmaison.  Prince  Napoleon  recited  a  scene  from 
Racine  for  me ;  he  took  the  part  of  Achille ;  the 
exactness  of  his  intonation  reminded  me  of  your 
Majesty  when  you  were  a  child ;  his  memory  is 
prodigious  and  his  manner  of  speaking  is  a  sure  proof 
of  his  intelligence.  As  for  prince  Louis,  who  had 
lately  been  told  the  story  of  Puss-in- Boots,  he  had 
thrust  one  of  his  little  legs  into  a  cardboard  boot  and, 
whip  in  hand,  was  bent  upon  imitating  the  hero  of 
that  romance  ;  so  excited  was  he,  that  he  ran  through 
all  the  rooms,  and  would  listen  to  nobody.  He  is 
really  charming  with  his  vivacity,  his  fresh  colour,  and 
his  resemblance  to  your  Majesty." 

This  letter  concludes  with  a  request  for  loo  francs 
that  she  may  buy  a  layette  for  the  child  of  a  poor 
English  lady,  n4e  Cameron,  married  to  a  needy 
^migrd,  and  already  the  mother  of  three  children  : 
"  This  lady  is  very  virtuous,  is  an  excellent  mother, 
is  still  pretty,  and  one  can  see  that  she  is  accustomed 
to  good  society.  Some  relatives  of  mine  knew  her  in 
London  nearly  twenty  years  ago." 

The  year  1812  was  uneventful  for  Maman  Campan 
and  her  children,  except  for  a  visit  from  Hortense, 
when  the  latter  distributed  as  a  reward  to  some  of  the 
best  pupils  several  handsome  medals,  enamelled  with 

328 


Cof>yrig]it  l>y\ 


[Braiin  &^  Co. 


HORTENSE   DE    BEAUHARNAIS. 
From  a  painting  by  R^granet. 


THE  HAPPY  DAYS  OF  HORTENSE 

a  portrait  of  the  beloved  Emperor.  These  visits 
were  the  source  of  as  much  pleasure  to  Hortense  as 
to  the  pupils.  So  warm  was  the  welcome,  so  truly 
did  the  children's  wishes  come  from  the  heart,  that 
Hortense,  speaking  in  1831  of  those  visits,  said: 
**That  is  the  only  royalty  I  ever  regretted." 

At  last,  in  June  18 13,  Mme  Campan  seemed 
about  to  obtain  for  her  son  Henri  the  long-desired 
position.  The  Emperor,  in  fact,  had  actually  nomin- 
ated Henri  prefect  of  Amiens,  when  M.  de  la 
Tour-du-Pin  Gouvernet,  backed  by  some  influential 
persons  at  Court,  was  given  that  post  in  order  to 
compensate  him  for  another  appointment  which  he 
had  been  promised,  but  had  not  obtained.  And  so 
poor  Henri,  the  son  of  "the  celebrated  Mistress 
Campan,"  as  she  was  called  in  the  London  and  New 
York  newspapers  of  the  day,  found  himself  no  nearer 
obtaining  a  suitable  position  than  he  had  been  five 
years  ago. 

On  June  10,  181 3,  Mme  Campan's  niece,  Mme 
de  Broc,  nde  Adele  Auguie,  was  drowned  owing  to 
her  own  imprudence  while  on  an  excursion  with 
Hortense  and  several  other  ladies  to  the  cascade  of 
Gr^sy,  in  the  valley  of  Sierroz,  near  Aix-les-Bains. 
Mme  de  Broc  had  been  warned  not  to  go  too  near 
the  river,  as  the  bank  was  steep  and  slippery ;  but 
brushing  aside  the  guide's  proferred  hand,  she 
bounded  down  the  bank  ;  suddenly  her  foot  slipped 
and,  before  her  companions  could  save  her,  she  fell 
into  the  torrent  and  was  swept  away.  Hortense 
wept  bitterly  for  her  beautiful  young  friend ;  when 
the  body,  after  much  difficulty,  was  recovered  from 
the  mountain- torrent,  Hortense  had  a  little  monument 

329 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

(which  can  still  be  seen)  erected  to  her  memory  over 
the  spot  where  poor  Mme  de  Broc  lost  her  life,  with 
the  following  inscription  : — 

ICI 
MADAME  LA  BARONNE  DE  BROC 
Ag6e  de  vingt-cinq  ans,  a  peri, 

LE    lO   JUIN,    1813. 

o  vous 

qui  visitez  ces  lieux, 

n'avancez  qu'avec 

prudence  sur  ces 

ABIMES  ! 

SONGEZ   A   CEUX   QUI 

VOUS 

AIMENT  ! 

Mme  Campan,  who  had  acted  as  mother  for  so 
many  years  to  the  poor  young  woman,  wrote  a  sad 
letter  to  Mile  Cochelet,  Hortense's  lectrice  : — 

**  My  dear  Louise,  nothing  can  describe  the  despair 
of  her  family.  Reason,  strength  of  mind,  and  resigna- 
tion can  alone  alleviate  the  pain ;  but  the  wound  will 
never  close  as  long  as  we  live.  I  am  writing  to  the 
queen  (Hortense)  to-day  to  beg  her  to  resign  herself 
to  the  severe  decrees  of  Providence.  May  her  health, 
her  precious  health,  suffer  no  harm,  is  now  my  prayer. 
That  angel  who  devoted  herself  to  her  while  on  earth, 
now  prays  for  her  in  Paradise.  Ah  !  my  dear  friend, 
strength  fails  me  to  write  any  more.  —  Your 
affectionate  friend,  Genest  Campan." 

The  year  181 3  brought  Mme  Campan  other 
sorrows,  which  she  pours  out  to  Hortense  thus  : — 

330 


FRANCE  IS  INVADED 

"The  Emperor  imagines  me  to  be  rich,  and 
fancies  that  I  have  lied  to  him.  .  .  .  My  first  earnings 
at  Saint-Germain  enabled  me  to  buy  some  furniture, 
for  my  house  had  been  burnt  and  pillaged.  I  paid 
my  husband's  debts  to  the  amount  of  30,000  francs. 
War  was  the  ruin  of  my  establishment,  and  during  the 
last  five  years  there  I  lost  12,000  francs  every  year. 
When  I  went  to  Ecouen  I  had  60,000  francs  of  debts. 
Thanks  to  the  kindness  of  your  Majesty  and  the 
princesses,  I  have  been  able  to  pay  off  25,000  francs 
during  the  last  three  years,  but  I  still  owe  35,000 
francs.  I  have  certain  bills  which  must  be  paid  before 
January  i,  1814.  I  am  going  to  beg  your  Majesty 
to  anticipate  your  usual  New  Year  present  of  6000 
francs  and  to  give  it  to  me  now,  so  that  I  may  pay 
off  some  of  that  debt." 

The  winter  of  181 3-14  was  a  terrible  one  for  the 
founder  of  Ecouen  and  its  directress.  The  Battle  of 
the  Nations  had  driven  the  Emperor  back  to  France  ; 
but  although  forced  to  resist  the  allied  armies  of 
Europe,  his  genius  and  the  furia  francese  still 
sustained  him.  On  January  27,  18 14,  he  beat  the 
invaders  at  Saint-Dizier. 

The  sub-prefect  of  Pontoise  having  invited  all 
good  patriots  to  make  lint  for  Napoleon's  soldiers,  the 
mayor  of  Ecouen  paid  a  visit  to  Mme  Campan  and 
enlisted  her  help  and  sympathy  ;  the  usual  school  tasks 
were  laid  aside.  Mme  Campan  and  her  ''little  bees," 
as  M.  Mejan  so  prettily  terms  them,  worked  so  hard 
that  they  soon  had  a  huge  store  of  lint,  to  which 
Hortense,  the  patroness,  was  begged  to  contribute  by 
sending  all  her  old  linen  to  Ecouen,  so  that  the  girls 
might  convert  it  into  bandages  and  dressings. 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

On  February  ii,  Napoleon  won  a  brilliant  victory 
over  the  Allies  at  Montmirail ;  Mme  Campan  depicts 
her  delight  in  the  following  letter  to  Hortense  : — 

"ECOUEN,  February  13,  18 14. 

**  Notwithstanding  all  my  precautions,  alarming 
news  was  brought  to  our  secluded  abode  by  the 
pupils,  but  it  in  no  wise  troubled  our  calm  existence. 
The  lessons  went  on  with  the  greatest  regularity  ;  not 
a  single  governess  left  the  institution  ;  we  might  have 
been  miles  and  miles  away  from  Paris.  I  had  laid  in 
a  store  of  vegetables,  flour,  eggs,  and  prunes  sufficient 
to  last  two  months  in  case  of  any  emergency.  The 
whole  country-side  for  two  leagues  round  was  quite 
convinced  that  the  enemy  would  inflict  the  pain  of 
death  upon  anybody  daring  to  trouble  the  peace  of 
these  shelters  for  youth.  I  myself  started  that 
rumour  ;  I  was  delighted  to  hear  the  peasants  repeat 
it,  for  I  feared  thieves  almost  as  much  as  I  dreaded 
the  Cossacks.  M.  de  Lac^pede  was  so  kind  as  to 
write  his  approval  of  my  conduct.  Our  position  has 
much  changed ;  joy  is  universal.  The  Emperor  and 
his  brave  fellows  have  accomplished  miracles,  and  I  no 
longer  have  any  fears  for  you,  Madame,  nor  for  my 
beautiful  country.  By  placing  our  heads  near  the 
ground  we  could  hear  the  cannons  thundering  ;  I  think 
we  owed  this  painful  privilege  to  the  vicinity  of  the 
hill,  but  we  afterwards  heard  something  much  grander, 
and  that  was  the  guns  at  the  Invalides — a  sound 
which  delighted  our  hearts.  We  continue  to  make 
lint  for  the  department ;  we  have  already  made  more 
than  eighty  pounds,  but  we  must  now  think  of 
rejoicings,  and  I  am  going  to  have  your  Majesty's 
kind  present  of  a  roundabout  put  in  order.  ..." 

332 


THE  FATHERLAND  IN  DANGER 

Alas !  the  victory  of  Montmirail  was  soon  to  be 
followed  by  the  siege  of  Paris,  and  that  most  cruel 
blow,  the  treachery  of  so  many  of  those  friends  who 
had  sworn  to  be  faithful  to  their  Emperor — and  per- 
haps had  meant  it — in  the  days  of  prosperity  !  During 
those  horrible  months  when  France  was  smarting  with 
humiliation  for  her  children's  treachery,  Hortense 
composed  a  patriotic  song  with  a  refrain  : — 

"  Entends  le  cri  de  tous  les  coeurs  : 
II  faut  defendre  la  Patrie  ! " 

This  song  became  a  great  favourite  with  the 
populace,  the  Emperor's  most  faithful  friends.  Mme 
Campan  s  son  was  instrumental  in  introducing  it  to 
the  town  of  Toulouse,  where  he  had  been  given  a 
small  post.  He  taught  it  to  some  young  girls,  who 
sang  it  with  such  success  in  one  of  the  chief  theatres 
that  the  prima-donna,  to  whom  he  had  refused  to  act 
as  singing-master  because  she  was  fifty  years  of  age 
and  her  voice  **two  or  three  lustres  older  than  that," 
as  Mme  Campan  quaintly  puts  it,  threatened  to  put 
poison  in  his  coffee  if  he  ever  dared  to  show  himself 
at  the  caf4  which  she  kept,  and  where  she  was  always 
to  be  found  when  not  at  the  theatre  endeavouring  to 
reach  C  in  alt. 

Mme  Campan  did  her  best  to  be  cheerful  during 
those  weeks  of  anxiety  ;  but  the  presence  of  marauders 
armed  with  the  dead  soldiers'  weapons,  who  hid  by 
day  in  the  woods  around  Ecouen  and  came  out  to 
help  themselves  to  what  they  could  find  at  night,  did 
not  reassure  her.  The  peasants  formed  themselves 
into  patrols ;  but,  as  Mme  Campan  remarked : 
*'  A  picket  of  mounted  soldiers  would  have  been  far 
more  efficacious  than  our  peasants  armed  with  pikes 

333 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

and  sticks.  It  is  the  chancellor's  duty  to  protect  our 
establishment,  and  it  is  mine  to  warn  him  when  pro- 
tection is  necessary,  to  remain  at  my  post  and  to  care 
for  my  pupils." 

It  would  seem  as  if  Mme  Campan  was  fated  to 
suffer  with  France.  During  the  Revolution  she  had 
seen  her  house  burnt  and  everything  in  it  stolen  or 
destroyed;  she  now  heard  that  her  little  farm,  "all 
the  property  I  had  in  the  wide  world,"  had  been  the 
scene  of  a  horrible  battle,  and  that  the  dear  animals 
she  loved  so  well,  the  agricultural  implements,  all  the 
produce — everything  had  been  burnt  by  the  invaders. 

**  I  must  learn  to  be  resigned,"  she  remarks ;  then 
pushing  aside  her  own  troubles,  she  writes  to 
Hortense  :  **  The  hospitals  are  in  need  of  lint ;  your 
Majesty  must  send  some  more  old  linen  to  the  two 
institutions  (Ecouen  and  Saint-Denis).  I  have  sent 
sixty  pounds  of  lint  to  the  hospital  which  is  now  being 
organized  at  Pontoise.  I  hear  that  your  Majesty  is 
also  making  a  quantity." 


334 


CHAPTER  XVI 

Abdication  of  Napoleon — The  Emperor  Alexander  pays  a  visit  to  Mme 
Campan,  and  makes  a  strange  confession—  The  queen  of  Holland 
as  duchesse  de  Saint-Leu — Mme  Campan  bids  farewell  to  Ecouen 
— She  suffers  for  Napoleon's  favours — She  obtains  .an  audience 
with  the  duchesse  d'Angouleme — Generosity  of  "  Petite  Bonne  " — 
The  Hundred  Days'  Wonder — The  Silver  Lilies  give  place  to  the 
Golden  Bees — Napoleon  finds  time  to  review  his  "little  bees" — 
Farewell  to  France — The  White  Terror  claims  its  victims. 

On  April  ii,  1814,  Napoleon  abdicated  at  Fontaine- 
bleau.  The  day  before  the  *'  Father  "  of  the  daughters 
of  the  Legion  of  Honour  signed  away  the  power 
which  he  had  won  by  his  own  prodigious  talents, 
Mme  Campan,  unaware  of  the  tragedy  which  was 
about  to  be  enacted,  wrote  to  Hortense,  who  had  gone 
to  stay  with  the  ex- Empress  at  La  Malmaison  : — 

** .  .  .  As  for  us,  Madame,  we  very  nearly  received 
a  visit  from  the  Cossacks  who  pillaged  Sarcelles ; 
luckily  I  had  dispatched  a  letter  on  April  i  to 
General  Sacken  by  the  hand  of  a  trusty  friend.  He 
sent  me  three  men  belonging  to  the  Russian  army 
and  a  safeguard  written  in  that  language.  I  had  it 
copied  and  affixed  to  the  gates.  We  did  not  see  a 
single  Cossack.  ...  I  saved  many  terrified  ladies,  who 
are  now  lodging  in  the  institution.  Saint- Denis  has 
been  besieged ;  canons  were  placed  on  the  top  of  the 
garden- walls.  Never  would  the  chancellor  have  been 
able   to   persuade  me  to   remain  with   children   and 

335 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

women-folk  in  a  wretched  village  with  cannons  going 
off  all  around  us  ;  he  would  have  been  very  angry 
with  me,  but  I  would  never  have  given  in  to  him. 
Had  any  harm  come  to  those  children,  he  would  have 
been  held  responsible.  Luckily  they  got  off  with  a 
few  shells  and  bombs  which  fell  into  their  garden,  and 
they  had  to  learn  their  book  in  damp  cellars.  Here 
our  litde  ones  knew  nothing  of  what  was  happening." 

Mme  Campan  soon  felt  the  consequences  of  the 
Emperor's  departure.  Before  another  month  had 
elapsed  she  was  writing  her  last  letter  addressed  to 
her  Majesty  Queen  Hortense  : — 

**  I  have  so  little  money  to  spare  for  other  people, 
that  I  don't  know  which  way  to  turn  ;  for  I  have  to 
wash  and  feed,  dine  and  sup,  three  hundred  and  sixty 
persons.  As  for  me,  I  have  not  got  a  sou,  and  my 
son  is  lying  ill  at  Montpellier." 

No  sooner  had  Nfapoleon  left  France  than  the 
capital  was  invaded  by  hordes  of  inquisitive  foreigners ; 
Mme  Campan  received  visits  from  Anglais  et  Anglaises 
who  had  heard  of  the  splendid  institution  at  Ecouen  ; 
she  writes  to  Hortense  : — 

"  They  all  display  interest  in  your  statue  and 
portrait  when  I  tell  them  that  the  latter  represents  a 
person  who  is  as  amiable  as  she  is  virtuous.  One  of 
them,  a  commodore  or  a  captain  in  the  navy,  whose 
name  I  do  not  know,  said  to  me  in  English  :  '  We 
know  she  is  a  very  accomplished  lady,  and  her  mother 
the  best-hearted  lady  in  the  universe'  (sic).  ..." 

The  Emperor  Alexander  of  Russia  paid  several 
visits  to  the  woman  whom  people  were  pleased  to  call 
**  Napoleon's  victim,"  the  Empress  Josephine  and  her 
daughter,  now  to  be  known  as  the  duchesse  de  Saint- 

336 


A  STRANGE  CONFESSION 

Leu.  He  also  went  to  see  Mme  Campan  at  Ecouen, 
when  she  thanked  him  for  having  sent  three  Russian 
soldiers  to  protect  the  daughters  of  the  Legion  of 
Honour ;  she  invited  him  to  stay  to  lunch,  after  which 
she  took  him  to  see  the  chapel  with  the  old  stone  pew 
in  which  the  Constable  de  Montmorency  and  his 
wife  used  to  hear  Mass,  and  then  they  walked  up  a 
hill  overlooking  the  country  where  she  told  him  she 
had  stood  and  watched  the  Battle  of  Paris ;  after 
listening  to  her  in  silence,  the  Emperor  made  the 
following  confession  : — 

''Had  that  battle  lasted  two  hours  longer,  we 
should  not  have  had  a  single  cartridge  left ;  we  were 
afraid  that  we  had  been  misled,  for  we  had  been  in 
too  great  a  hurry  to  reach  Paris — and  then  we  had 
not  counted  upon  such  stubborn  resistance." 

On  bidding  his  hostess  farewell,  the  Emperor  of 
Russia  promised  to  send  the  pupils  some  sugar-plums. 
As  the  days  passed  by  and  no  sugar-plums  appeared, 
the  children  probably  drew  comparisons  between  their 
Emperor,  who  had  always  kept  his  promises  to  them, 
and  the  invader. 

However,  the  postmaster  of  Ecouen  had  over- 
heard that  promise,  and  when,  some  time  after  this 
visit,  Alexander  stopped  to  change  horses  at  Ecouen 
on  his  way  to  the  seacoast,  where  he  was  to  embark 
for  England,  the  honest  postmaster  came  to  the 
door  of  the  Emperor's  travelling  -  carriage  and 
said  : — 

**Sire,  the  pupils  of  Ecouen  are  still  waiting  for 
the  sugar-plums  which  your  Majesty  promised  them." 

The  Emperor  excused  himself  by  saying  that  he 
had  ordered  Sacken  to  send  them;  however,  as  the 
Y  337 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

children  never  got  the  promised  treat,  it  is  probable 
that  the  Cossacks  ate  them  instead. 

In  July  1 8 14,  Mme  Campan  wrote  the  first  letter 
addressed  to  the  duchesse  de  Saint- Leu  ;  it  is  a  sad 
one,  for  it  contains  the  first  mention  of  the  rumour 
that  Ecouen,  like  its  founder,  was  about  to  become  a 
thing  of  the  past : — 

''All  my  poor  ladies,"  says  she,  "are  terribly 
anxious  until  their  fate  is  decided  ;  and  there  are 
some  who,  on  leaving  Ecouen,  will  literally  have  to 
beg  their  bread,  and  others  who  have  not  a  bed  or  a 
pair  of  sheets.  My  heart  is  breaking.  What  an  end 
to  come  to  after  all  I  have  endured  !  However,  I 
am  well,  Madame ;  I  am  learning  to  be  resigned. 
I  realize  that  these  troubles  are  the  outcome  of  two 
revolutions  in  twenty-five  years,  and  the  hot  passions 
which  have  raged  over  our  land." 

A  month  later  and  she  is  writing  her  last  letter 
from  Ecouen.  Her  career  of  teaching  is  over  ;  during 
the  years  of  labour  unrequited  and  the  months  of 
success,  she  had  brought  up  and  married  her  nieces, 
two  of  whom  had  become  mardchales  and  duchesses 
h  la  mode  de  NapoUon\  she  had  educated  1200  little 
girls,  some  of  whom  had  made  grand  marriages. 
Those  glorious  days  of  the  Empire  were  already  as 
dead  and  gone  as  if  they  had  never  existed,  as  if 
France  had  never  shone  like  a  beacon  in  the  world 
of  art  and  science.  And  Mme  Campan,  like  many 
another,  found  herself  looked  upon  with  suspicion  and 
dislike  because  she  had  faithfully  served  that  marvel- 
lous man  who  had  saved  her  native  land  from  anarchy 
and  ruin.  She  was  accused  of  having  barbouilU^ 
^  Se  barbouiller ;  to  smear  oneself  with  anything. 

338 


NAPOLEON'S  MARECHALES 

herself  with  the  Bonapartes.  So  many  of  those 
returned  dmigrettes  who  had  put  their  pride  in  their 
pockets  and  left  France  in  such  a  hurry  when  the 
old  regime  first  showed  signs  of  falling  to  pieces,  and 
had  lived  as  titled  sycophants  at  all  the  European 
Courts,  turned  up  their  aristocratic  noses  at  Napoleon's 
mardchales,  whose  husbands  had  earned  their  fortunes 
and  titles  on  the  field  of  honour,  and  not  on  the  back- 
stairs of  a  palace,  and  remarked  loud  enough  to  be 
heard  : — 

"We  do  not  know  those  women — they  are  only 
marechales  ! " 

Mme   Campan  knew  what  was  in  store  for  her 
when  she  wrote  to  "  Petite  Bonne  "  : — 

"Because  I  served  the  king  and  Marie  Antoinette 
most  faithfully,  and  was  loaded  with  benefits,  I 
found  that  I  had  won  many  enemies.  I  am  now 
ruined.  I  shall  endeavour  to  lead  a  quiet  but  useful 
life.  You,  by  your  kindness,  your  fame,  of  which  I 
little  dreamt  when  I  received  you  into  my  home  and 
mothered  you — you  have  aroused  a  whole  army  of 
enemies  against  my  poor  person.  The  envious,  who 
love  neither  brilliant  talents  nor  Fortune's  favours, 
nor  victorious  courage  nor  the  manifestations  of 
beauty  in  art,  cannot  forgive  me  for  having  one  niece 
a  mardchale,  another  a  duchess.  .  .  .  Some  blame  me 
for  having  professed  revolutionary  opinions,  whereas 
I  have  never  ceased  to  regret  the  excesses  of  the 
Revolution  ;  others  blame  me  for  having  brought  up 
the  beautiful  women  who  adorned  Napoleon's  Court. 
I  shall  see  the  comte  de  Blacas  to-morrow,  for  all 
Paris  must  know  that  my  sovereign  acknowledges  me 
to  be  an  honourable  woman  ;  he  must,  for  I  deserve 

339 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

it,  and  kings  should  be  just  to  their  humblest 
subjects." 

Mme  Campan  had  to  care  for  other  people  than 
herself,  for  she  had  to  provide  for  the  orphan  Pholo^ 
who  was  still  waiting  for  the  legacy  which  the  prince 
of  Nassau-Siegen  had  bequeathed  to  her.  Mme  Ney 
had  been  very  kind  to  the  girl,  inviting  her  to  her 
house  on  many  occasions.  In  the  spring  of  1814, 
Mile  Pholoe  made  the  acquaintance  of  a  Russian 
diplomatist,  Boutikim  by  name,  which  acquaintance, 
carefully  fostered  by  Mme  Ney,  in  whose  house  the 
young  people  had  met,  ripened  after  a  few  months 
into  love. 

A  good  deed  is  never  wasted  ;  the  seed  of  kind- 
ness which  Mme  Campan  had  scattered  with  such  a 
generous  hand  in  prosperity,  blossomed  and  brought 
forth  fruit  in  the  hour  of  trial.  All  her  friends  rallied 
round  her ;  foremost  among  these  were  M.  de  Lally- 
Tollendal  and  Eliza  Monroe's  father,  both  of  whom 
interceded  for  her  to  Louis  xviii. 

While  waiting  for  her  fate  to  be  decided,  Mme 
Campan  took  rooms  in  a  little  house  outside  the  walls 
of  the  Imperial  Establishment  over  which  she  had 
once  ruled  as  queen  ;  here  she  stored  what  remained 
of  the  wreck  of  her  fortunes ;  it  was  not  much  :  a 
cracked  porcelain  cup  out  of  which  Marie  Antoinette 
had  often  drunk,  a  rickety  writing-table  which  had 
stood  in  her  royal  mistress's  boudoir  at  Versailles,  a 
muslin  dress,  yellow  with  age,  made  from  stuff  pre- 
sented to  the  ill-fated  queen  of  France  by  Tippoo 
Sahib.^     And  here  she  sat  for  long  hours  waiting. 

^  Tippoo   Sahib,   Sultan  of  Mysore   in    1782,   resisted  the  English 
invader,  and  perished  at  the  siege  of  Seringapatam  in  1799. 


THE  DUCHESSE  D*ANG0UL£ME 

Wherever  she  looked,  both  within  doors  and  without, 
she  was  surrounded  by  the  Past — by  her  side  the 
frail  relics  of  a  dead  youth  ;  on  the  other  side  of  the 
garden-wall,  Ecouen,  with  its  old  chapel  and  stately 
park,  the  once  busy  hive  where  Napoleon's  little  bees 
had  learnt  their  lessons  under  her  motherly  eye. 

On  hearing  that  the  duchesse  d'Angouleme,  la 
petite  Madame,  as  Mme  Campan  had  often  called 
that  unfortunate  princess  in  her  childhood,  had 
returned  to  the  Tuileries,  the  old  lady,  undaunted  by 
the  cool  reception  accorded  by  the  duchess  to  Adele 
de  Boigne,  one  of  Hortense's  fellow-pupils  at  Saint- 
Germain,  rather  imprudently  begged  for  an  audience. 
The  duchesse  d' Angouleme's  first  words  were  gracious 
enough  : — 

*' I  have  never  forgotten  your  devotion  to  my 
mother ;  I  know  that  you  were  faithful  until  the  end, 
and  that  your  prayer  to  be  allowed  to  follow  her  to 
the  Temple  was  rejected  ;  I  have  never  believed  any 
of  the  slander  uttered  against  you." 

However,  when  Mme  Campan,  after  describing 
her  struggle  with  poverty  at  Saint-Germain,  went  on 
to  speak  of  the  difficulties  she  had  experienced,  and 
the  losses  she  had  sustained  while  at  Ecouen,  the 
princess  stopped  her  short  with  this  remark,  uttered  in 
a  peculiarly  acid  tone  : — 

"  You  would  have  done  better  if  you  had  remained 
at  Saint-Germain  !  " 

Whereupon  the  audience  came  to  an  abrupt  con- 
clusion. 

Then  the  '' Petite  Bonne"  of  the  days  of 
Montagne  de  Bon-Air  came  to  the  rescue,  sold  some 
of  her  jewels,  and,  with  the  proceeds,  gave  her  old 

341 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

friend  the  first  instalment  of  the  pension  which  she 
continued  to  pay  until  the  day  of  her  second  mother's 
death. 

In  June  1814  Mme  Campan's  health  necessitated 
a  course  of  waters  at  Aix-les-Bains,  after  which  she 
paid  a  visit  to  the  grandmother  of  two  of  her  former 
pupils,  Alix  and  Josephine  d'Audiffr^dy. 

In  the  autumn  of  18 14  Mile  Pholo^  went  to 
Vienna  in  order  to  be  present  at  the  Congress  ;  here 
she  found  Boutikim,  who  acted  as  her  cicerone,  and 
presented  her  to  the  Emperor  of  Russia.  Before  she 
left  Vienna,  Boutikim  asked  her  to  marry  him,  a 
proposal  which  Pholo6,  whose  fortune  consisted  of 
vague  expectations,  was  delighted  to  accept ;  the 
marriage  was  celebrated  quite  as  quickly  as  if 
Napoleon  had  had  the  management  of  the  affair. 

Boutikim's  influence  at  Court  enabled  him  to 
obtain  the  money  due  to  his  wife,  who  now  found 
herself  possessed  of  a  handsome  fortune,  some  of 
which  she  might  have  sent  to  the  lady  who  had  acted 
as  mother  to  her  for  so  many  years ;  but  Boutikim 
forbade  her  to  hold  any  communications  with  her  old 
friends  in  France. 

The  return  to  France  of  Louis  le  Ddsird  did  not 
produce  all  the  wonderful  things  which  the  nation 
had  been  promised.  Too  many  of  the  Emperor's 
faithful  servants  still  remained  to  deplore  either 
openly  or  in  secret  the  departure  of  their  chosen 
sovereign.  Even  the  little  pupils  of  the  Legion  of 
Honour  Establishment  at  Saint-Denis,  which,  unlike 
the  sister  institution  at  Ecouen,  had  not  been 
abolished,  manifested  their  love  for  their  absent 
Emperor  so  loudly  on  the  occasion  of  a  visit  from  the 

342 


THE  HUNDRED  DAYS'  WONDER 

duchesse  d'Angouleme,   that  she   vowed    she  would 
never  again  cross  their  threshold. 

It  was  the  poor  and  the  humble,  those  who  had 
suffered  most  for,  and  reaped  less  from,  the  Empire, 
whose  joy  was  most  sincere  when  they  learnt  that 
the  people's  Emperor,  the  soldiers'  Emperor  who 
once  said  :  "  Each  wound  adds  another  quarter  to  the 
escutcheon  " — meaning  thereby  that  the  titles  won  by 
bravery  on  the  battlefield  were  the  only  ones  worth 
having — was  once  more  on  French  soil. 

"  Bon  !  bon  ! 

Napoleon 

Va  rentrer  dans  sa  maison  ! " 

cried  a  humble  cantiniere  on  hearing  that  Napoleon 
had  escaped  from  his  gaolers.  And  the  vieux 
grognards  beat  time  on  their  knees  as  if  already  on 
the  march  as  they  echoed  : — 

"  Nous  allons  voir  le  grand  Napoleon 
Le  vainqueur  de  toutes  les  nations  ! " 

A  blue-Stocking  at  Nancy,  in  a  patriotic  frenzy, 
seized  her  pen  and  flourished  off  an  ode  ending  with 
the  following  apostrophe  : — 

"  Reviens  !  reviens  !     C'est  le  cri  de  la  France 
Pour  terminer  sa  honte  et  sa  souffrance  ! " 

M.  Henri  Houssaye,  in  i8i^ :  Les  Cent- J  ours, 
paints  such  a  vivid  picture  of  the  scenes  enacted  at 
the  Tuileries  when  the  Emperor  returned  to  his  own 
again  that  we  can  almost  see  the  expressions  on  the 
faces  of  the  actors  in  that  drama.  Faith  in  Napoleon's 
star,  fear  lest  they  should  be  punished  if  they  stayed 
away,  remorse  for  having  accepted  favours  from  his 
enemies,  had  brought  many  to  the  palace ;  there  were 

343 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

Davout,  Maret,  Lebrun,  Daru,  none  of  whom  had  yet 
been  made  peers  by  the  Bourbons ;  Savary,  whose 
loquacity  later  erased  the  memory  of  his  bravery ; 
Gaudin,  afterwards  made  governor  of  the  Bank  of 
France ;  Lavalette,  the  true  ;  Thibaudeau,  a  former 
conventionnel,  whose  exile  in  consequence  of  this  act 
of  fidelity  was  to  last  until  the  Bourbons  again  left 
France ;  Decres,  the  admiral  ;  Regnault  de  Saint- 
Jean  d'Angdy,  who  served  the  eagle  and  the  eaglet 
with  equal  devotion ;  the  comte  de  Segur,  D^jean, 
Lefevre,  Exelmans.  .  .  .  While  these  gentlemen  were 
waiting  for  their  Emperor  to  appear,  the  Salle  des 
Mar^chaux,  the  GaUrie  de  Diane,  and  the  Salle  du 
Trone  were  suddenly  invaded  by  a  troop  of  fair 
women  (many  of  whom  had  been  brought  up  by 
Mme  Campan)  wearing  their  most  beautiful  clothes, 
jewels,  and  laces ;  they  included  the  princesse 
d'Eckmiihl  (Aim^e  Leclerc) — who  said  to  her  husband 
when,  on  the  return  of  the  Bourbons,  he  found  him- 
self hated  for  his  brave  defence  of  Hamburg  :  "  Never 
have  I  been  prouder  of  the  fact  that  I  am  your  wife  "  ; 
the  gentle  duchesse  de  Plaisance,  n^e  Sophie  de 
Marbois  ;  the  duchesse  de  Rovigo,  the  heiress  F^licit^ 
Fodoas ;  the  comtesse  Regnault  de  Saint-Jean 
d'Angdly ;  the  comtesse  de  Lavalette,  nde  Emilie 
de  Beauharnais,  of  whom  Napoleon  said  at  St. 
Helena :  '*  She,  by  her  conjugal  love,  has  become  an 
illustrious  woman." 

On  reaching  the  Salle  du  Trone,  one  of  the  ladies 
remarked  that  the  silver  lilies  on  the  carpet  seemed 
as  if  they  had  been  appliqu^d  and  not  woven  into  the 
design ;  bending  down,  she  gave  a  pull  at  the 
Bourbon  lily,  which  came  off  in  her  hand  revealing 

344 


SILVER   LILIES  AND  GOLDEN  BEES 

the  Napoleonic  bee.  With  cries  of  delight  the  ladies 
tore  off  their  gloves,  knelt  down  in  their  silks  and 
satins,  and  set  to  work  to  restore  the  carpet  to  its 
former  state ;  in  less  than  half  an  hour  not  a  silver 
lily  was  to  be  seen,  and  every  golden  bee  stood  out 
clearly  on  the  crimson  ground.  Their  task  was  just 
finished  when  a  roar  of  Vive  H Empereur  I  was  heard 
in  the  distance. 

Napoleon's  carriage  had  scarcely  entered  the 
courtyard  of  the  Tuileries  when  the  Emperor  was 
seized  by  his  arms  and  legs,  torn  from  his  seat, 
carried  to  the  door,  and  borne  to  the  foot  of  the  stair- 
case, while  the  men,  who  only  two  minutes  ago  had 
seemed  as  if  they  were  still  under  the  influence  of 
some  evil  dream,  cuffed  and  kicked  one  another, 
fought  like  tigers  in  their  fierce  longing  to  touch  the 
Emperor's  person  or  his  clothes.  Caulaincourt,  fear- 
ing lest  the  returned  exile  should  be  crushed  to  death, 
shouted  in  terror  to  Lavalette,  who  was  a  broad- 
shouldered,  powerful  man  : — 

"  For  God's  sake,  stand  in  front  of  him  !  " 

With  a  few  well-directed  blows,  Lavalette  forced 
his  way  through  the  crowd  to  the  foot  of  the  staircase, 
when  he  turned  round  with  his  face  to  the  Emperor, 
and  began  to  ascend  the  staircase  backwards,  crying 
as  he  did  so  :  **  It  Is  you  !  It  is  you  !  it  is  you  !  "  as  if 
trying  to  convince  himself  that  his  idol  had  really 
returned,  while  Napoleon,  with  closed  eyes,  a  fixed 
smile  on  his  pale  face,  and  his  arms  hanging  down  as 
if  he  were  asleep,  was  borne  up  that  staircase  to  live 
the  Hundred  Days'  Wonder. 

The  meeting  with  his  faithful  Rapp  was  touching 
in  the  extreme.     The  Emperor  flung  his  arms  round 

345 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

the  neck  of  the  hero  of  Danzig,  held  him  tightly, 
while  he  kissed  him  over  and  over  again,  and  then, 
with  a  final  pull  at  the  brave  fellow's  moustache, 
released  him  with  this  remark  : — 

''  Allans  I  A  brave  fellow  who  had  gone  through 
Egypt  and  witnessed  Austerlitz  could  not  desert  me." 

And  then  he  added  : — 

"  You  and  Ney  are  among  the  few  who  are  true 
as  steel." 

Alas !  he  was  mistaken  in  the  case  of  Ney. 

Nobody  was  forgotten  during  that  brief  gleam  of 
splendour ;  Mme  Campan's  old  heart  was  filled  to 
overflowing  when  she  received  a  formal  promise  from 
the  man  who  kept  his  promises  that  Ecouen  should 
be  restored  to  its  former  state  with  "  Petite  Bonne  " 
as  the  patroness,  and  all  the  375  little  girls  who 
loved  their  second  mama  so  dearly,  and  the  40 
ladies,  their  governesses,  "  who  loved  her  so  little," 
as  she  herself  remarked.  He  even  found  time  to  go 
down  to  Saint-Denis,  where  the  *'  bees  "  tumbled  over 
one  another,  pushed  and  jostled  each  other  in  a  most 
unladylike  manner  in  their  endeavours  to  get  near 
their  "  Father,"  and,  with  little  cries  of  ecstasy, 
fingered  his  coat,  stroked  his  sword,  and  smoothed 
the  nap  on  the  legendary  hat.  In  fact  they  became 
so  riotous  that  Mme  Lozeau  had  to  order  them  to 
display  their  joy  in  a  more  seemly  manner.  But 
Napoleon  checked  her,  saying  : — 

*'  Let  them  alone,  don't  stop  them  ;  their  cries 
may  make  the  head  ache,  but  they  warm  the 
heart.  .  .  ." 

The  Hundred  Days  had  come  and  gone.  .  .  . 

Louis  xviii  was  swifter  to  show  his  rancour  than 

34^ 


ARREST  OF  LAVALETTE 

his  gratitude.  On  July  i8,  ten  days  after  Napoleon 
had  left  France  for  the  second  time,  Lavalette,  the 
bravest  of  the  brave,  who  had  been  warned  of  what 
was  in  store  for  him,  was  arrested  while  dining  with 
some  friends,  and  placed  in  solitary  confinement  at 
the  Conciergerie.  His  crimes  were  unpardonable : 
he  had  refused  all  favours  from  the  hands  of  Louis  le 
Ddsird ;  on  learning  that  his  Emperor  had  returned 
to  France,  he  had  gone  to  the  Hotel  des  Postes, 
ordered  the  director  Ferrand,  in  the  Emperor's  name, 
to  give  up  his  post  to  him,  and  had  furthermore 
offended  the  director  by  presenting  him  with  a  pass- 
port for  Orleans,  whereas  Ferrand  wanted  to  join 
Louis  XVIII  at  Lille.  Lavalette's  affection  for  his  wife 
and  child  had  alone  prevented  him  granting  Napoleon's 
request  when  the  Emperor,  at  La  Malmaison,  asked 
him  to  go  into  exile  with  him.  Lavalette,  in  refusing, 
had  given  this  reason  : — 

''  I  have  a  wife,  and  a  daughter  of  thirteen.  My 
wife  is  expecting  another  child ;  I  cannot  make  up 
my  mind  to  leave  her.  Give  me  a  little  time  and 
then  I  will  come  to  you  wherever  you  are.  I  was 
faithful  to  your  Majesty  in  the  days  of  prosperity,  so 
you  can  count  upon  me.  Besides,  if  my  wife  did  not 
require  my  presence,  I  should  do  well  to  leave  France, 
for  I  have  melancholy  presentiments  for  the  future." 

Napoleon  understood  ;  far  from  being  offended  or 
wounded  by  his  friend's  refusal,  he  only  seemed  to 
think  more  highly  of  him. 

One  author  asserts  that  "people  demanded  the 
heads  of  Ney,  La  B^doyere,  and  Lavalette." 

What  people }  Certainly  not  the  people,  always 
ready  to  recognize  a  noble  deed.     The  **  people  "  in 

347 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

this    case     were     returned     dinigrds,     ultra-royalists, 
courtiers  of  the  chameleon  species. 

Ney,  arrested  soon  after  Lavalette,  occupied  a 
cell  just  over  that  of  his  rival  in  the  Emperor's  affec- 
tions, which  was  close  to  the  stone-paved  prison  in 
which  Marie  Antoinette  ate  the  bread  of  tears.  From 
eight  o'clock  in  the  morning  until  seven  at  night, 
Lavalette  was  deafened  by  the  shrieks  and  oaths  of 
women-prisoners  in  their  prison,  which  was  only 
separated  from  his  cell  by  a  wall.  The  gaolers  were 
frequently  obliged  to  part  the  viragoes.  Sometimes 
Lavalette  would  burst  into  tears  on  hearing  the  strains 
of  the  flute  which  Ney,  who  was  passionately  fond  of 
music,  was  allowed  to  play  in  his  cell.  This  consolation 
was  soon  taken  from  him,  for  Ney's  gaolers  turned 
prudent  and  confiscated  the  flute. 

Mme  Ney,  once  the  light-hearted  Egl6  Augui^, 
and  her  four  sons  were  indeed  to  be  pitied.  Mme 
Campan,  too,  was  in  sore  trouble ;  her  son  had  fallen 
ill  at  Montpellier  ;  she  herself  was  driven  from  Paris, 
where  food  and  lodging  were  too  expensive  for  her 
meagre  funds,  and  forced  to  go  to  Bercy.  But 
philosophy  came  to  her  aid. 

**The  noblest  and  richest,  the  humblest  and 
poorest  alike,  can  content  themselves  with  a  cottage. 
Why  should  we  regret  the  world  ?  "  she  asks  herself. 
"  One  thing  alone  can  make  us  quail,  and  that  is  the 
fear  of  not  having  enough  to  buy  our  daily  bread. 
But  a  soft  bed,  a  good  fire,  a  warm  room,  a  plain 
meal,  good  books,  and  two  or  three  friends  to  prevent 
one  finding  oneself  too  often  face  to  face  with  one's 
own  thoughts,  which  are  not  always  very  pleasant 
companions,  with  fairly  good  health,  one   can  say  : 

348 


A  SOLDIER'S  END 

*  There  is  a  thunderstorm  somewhere  over  the  horizon, 
but  I  cannot  see  the  lightning,  I  cannot  hear  the 
thunder,  the  hail  cannot  harm  me  ' — and  that  is  much. 
A  philosopher  once  said  :  '  Let  us  learn  in  misfortune 
to  appreciate  small  blessings.'  ..." 

It  was  well  known  that  the  duchesse  d'Angouleme 
had  great  influence  over  her  uncle  Louis  xviii  ;  it  was 
therefore  to  this  strange  creature  that  Mmes  Ney, 
de  la  Bedoyere,  and  Lavalette,  heart-broken  at  the 
cruel  sentence  passed  on  their  husbands,  determined 
to  apply.  The  case  of  Lavalette  had  aroused  much 
sympathy  ;  Baron  Pasquier  had  endeavoured  to  save 
him,  and  had  assured  the  due  de  Richelieu  that  the 
king  would  do  his  own  cause  more  harm  than  good 
by  executing  him.  But  the  duchess  was  inexorable. 
Lavalette's  attitude  during  his  trial  had  been  calm 
and  manly ;  on  hearing  sentence  of  death  passed 
upon  him,  he  said  to  his  weeping  friends  : — 

**  Mes  amis,  this  is  but  a  cannon-shot !  " 

But  when  he  found  himself  back  in  his  horrible 
cell,  his  courage  gave  way,  and  he  could  scarcely  find 
strength  to  write  to  his  friend  of  former  days,  Marmont, 
now  in  favour  and  obliged  to  choose  his  acquaint- 
ances, begging  that  he  might  not  be  guillotined  but 
shot  by  soldiers.  On  December  7  his  gaoler  informed 
him  that  Ney,  his  old  comrade-in-arms,  was  to  be 
shot  on  the  Place  de  Greve.  Again  he  wrote  to 
Marmont : — 

"  We  old  soldiers  think  little  of  death,  we  have 
faced  it  so  often  on  the  field  of  honour,  but  on  the 
Greve — oh!  that  is  too  horrible!  In  the  name  of 
our  old  friendship,  do  not  allow  one  of  your  old 
comrades-in-arms  to  ascend  the  scaffold.    Let  a  picket 

349 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

of  grenadiers  finish  me  off.  At  least  in  the  throes  of 
death,  let  me  imagine  that  I  am  about  to  fall  on  the 
field  of  honour  !  " 

His  request  was  refused.  In  order  to  accustom 
himself  to  the  idea  of  being  guillotined,  Lavalette 
made  his  gaolers  describe  how  the  victim  ascended 
the  scaffold,  how  the  neck  was  bared,  how  the  body 
was  tied  to  the  plank,  how  long  the  knife  took  to  do 
its  work.  .  .  .  He  soon  had  his  nerves  under  control, 
and  would  say  to  his  wife,  who  during  his  trial  had 
given  birth  to  the  child  for  whose  sake  he  had 
remained  in  France,  and  which  had  died  almost 
immediately  :  "  Why  do  you  weep  ?  An  honest  man 
may  be  assassinated,  but  his  conscience  supports  him 
on  the  scaffold." 

Emilie  de  Lavalette,  although  at  that  time  so 
feeble  that  she  had  to  be  carried  in  a  sedan-chair  to 
her  husband's  prison,  determined  to  save  him  ;  she 
provided  him  with  some  of  her  own  clothes,  and  took 
his  place  in  his  cell,  when  he  was  able  to  escape  to 
the  house  of  a  friend.  When  Mr.  Bruce,^  a  generous- 
hearted  Englishman  who  had  already  tried  to  rescue 
Marshal  Ney,  but  had  failed,  heard  of  her  courage, 
he  swore  that  it  should  not  be  wasted,  and  that  he 
would  do  his  best  to  smuggle  her  husband  out  of 
France,  which  he  did,  and  thus  enabled  Lavalette  to 
reach  Bavaria,  where  Eugene  de  Beauharnais  sheltered 
him  until  he  was  able  to  return  to  France,  where  he 
found  that  his  brave  wife's  brain  had  given  way  under 
her  afflictions. 

^  Mr.  Michael  Bruce  was  the  nephew  of  the  celebrated  English 
explorer.  He  was  afterwards  arrested  and  condemned  to  three  months' 
imprisonment. 


**  PETITE  MADAME  "  IS  JEALOUS 

Ney,  like  Lavalette,  had  been  warned  to  leave 
France ;  money  had  been  offered  to  him,  but  he  had 
preferred  to  remain  in  his  native  land.  He  was  soon 
discovered  in  hiding  in  a  friend's  house,  was  arrested 
and  tried,  the  celebrated  Dupin  being  his  counsel. 
As  his  comrades-in-arms  declared  themselves  incom- 
petent to  form  a  court-martial,  his  case  was  taken  to 
the  Chambre  des  Pairs,  which  of  course  condemned 
him.  The  Duke  of  Wellington  nobly  took  his  part, 
protesting  that  the  sentence  was  contrary  to  the 
amnesty  made  at  the  capitulation  of  Paris.  Mme 
Ney  was  even  less  successful  in  her  efforts  to  enlist 
the  duchesse  d Angouleme's  sympathy  than  her  former 
schoolfellow  had  been  ;  the  "  Petite  Madame"  refused 
even  to  see  the  "  Petite  Auguie,"  as  she  had  once 
called  her.  It  was  said  in  her  excuse  that  she,  the 
motherless,  childless  Orphan  of  the  Temple,  was 
jealous  of  Mme  Ney's  four  fine  children. 

Ney  met  death  very  bravely.  When,  at  half-past 
nine  on  the  morning  of  December  7,  18 15,  the  Abbd 
de  Pierre  entered  the  condemned  man  s  cell  with  the 
comte  de  Rochechouart  and  two  gendarmes,  Ney 
greeted  him  thus  : — 

"  Ah  !  Monsieur  le  curd,  I  understand.  ...  I  am 
ready  !  " 

The  Marshal  looked  up  at  the  grey  sky  as  he  was 
led  out  to  the  carriage  which  was  to  take  him  to  the 
place  of  execution,  a  spot  close  to  the  garden-gate  of 
the  Observatory  of  Paris  instead  of  the  Place  de 
Greve  as  was  first  arranged,  and  remarked  in  a  calm 
tone  : — 

'•What  a  horrible  day!" 

It  was  one  of  those  cold,  misty  winter   days  in 

351 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

Paris,  when  the  dampness  seems  to  penetrate  through 
the  thickest  clothing. 

Ney  made  the  good  Abbd  get  into  the  vehicle 
first  ;  "  for,"  said  he  "  I  shall  presently  have  to  get  out 
first." 

Well  protected  by  soldiers  lest  the  populace 
should  try  to  rescue  the  prisoner  at  the  last  moment, 
the  carriage  stopped  a  few  feet  from  the  Observatory 
wall,  when  Ney  exclaimed  : — 

"  What !  are  we  already  there  ?  " 

He  had  been  given  to  understand  that  he  was  to 
be  executed  on  the  plain  of  Crenelle  as  La  Bddoyere 
had  been. 

Two  hundred  persons  had  assembled  to  see  the 
execution. 

Ney  having  alighted  first,  the  Abbe  followed. 
The  Marshal  then  handed  the  ecclesiastic  a  gold  box 
with  a  request  that  he  would  take  it  to  poor  Egle 
together  with  some  money  for  the  poor  of  Paris.  The 
Abb6  wept  bitterly  as  he  embraced  and  blessed  the 
condemned  man,  after  which  he  retired  some  paces 
away,  flung  himself  upon  the  ground,  and  began  to 
repeat  prayers  for  the  dead.  With  the  greatest  calm- 
ness Ney  asked  the  adjutant  how  he  was  to  stand, 
and  then  told  the  soldiers  to  aim  at  his  heart.  He 
only  displayed  emotion  when  the  adjutant  appeared 
anxious  to  bandage  his  eyes  and  make  him  kneel 
down  to  meet  Death.  Such  an  indignity  was  more 
than  one  of  Napoleon's  braves  could  stand. 

'*  Do  you  not  know.  Monsieur,"  said  he,  "  that  a 
soldier  should  not  fear  Death,  but  should  meet  it 
erect  .-^  "  He  took  off  his  hat — a  broad-brimmed  beaver 
in  Jerome's  picture,  The  Death  of  Marshal  Ney — and, 

352 


THE  DEATH  OF  NEY 

placing   his   hand  over  his   heart,  began  in  a  clear, 
distinct  voice  :■ — 

''  Frenchmen  !  I  protest  against  my  condemna- 
tion.    My  honour " 

The  still  air,  which  had  hitherto  only  been  filled 
with  the  drip,  drip  of  falling  raindrops,  the  twittering 
of  sparrows  in  the  garden  of  the  Observatory,  and  the 
Miserere  nos  of  the  Abb^  praying  for  the  soul  of  the 
Marshal,  was  disturbed  by  twelve  shots.  Ney  fell 
dead  in  the  mud  at  the  foot  of  the  garden  wall. 

A  man  stepped  out  from  among  the  silent  crowd 
and  dipped  his  handkerchief  in  the  Marshal's  blood  ; 
others  followed  his  example.  The  corpse  lay  in  the 
mud  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  while  the  Abb6  con- 
tinued to  pray  for  the  erring  soul  which  had  gone  to 
its  Creator.  M.  Gamot,  Ney's  brother-in-law,  now 
appeared,  washed  the  blood  from  the  poor  disfigured 
face,  and  had  the  corpse  carried  to  the  neighbouring 
hospital  of  La  Maternitd  All  sorts  and  conditions  of 
people,  including  ^v^  hundred  Englishmen  and  many 
of  Ney's  old  comrades-in-arms,  came  to  look  at  the 
body  lying  on  a  white  sheet  surrounded  by  lighted 
tapers  and  watched  by  Sisters  of  Charity. 

The  broken-hearted  Egld  Ney  retired  with  her 
children  to  her  late  husband's  property  of  Les 
Coudreaux.  ''Poor  Egl6  is  horribly  altered,"  wrote 
her  aunt,  Mme  Campan,  to  Mme  Ney's  former  school- 
fellow, Hortense;  "  her  grief  surpasses  anything  you 
can  imagine." 

During  the  winter  of  1815-16  Mme  Campan's  son 

also   experienced   persecution   at   the   hands   of    the 

Bourbons,  being  arrested  at  Montpellier  and  thrown 

into  prison,  where  he  languished  for  three  months  and 

z  353 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

suffered  such  privations  that  his  health  was  never  the 
same  again.  Luckily  his  poor  mother  knew  nothing 
of  what  had  befallen  him  until  he,  thanks  to  M.  de 
Lally-Tollendal's  intervention,  had  been  liberated. 

In  February  1816  Hortense,  who  was  now  at  the 
chateau  of  Arenenberg,  invited  her  old  governess  to 
come  and  open  a  girls'  school  near  her,  promising  to 
supply  her  with  funds,  and  to  use  all  her  influence  to 
make  it  a  success.  But  Mme  Campan,  still  suffering 
from  the  disappointment  of  having  to  sell  the  land 
upon  which  her  pretty  farm  had  once  stood  in  order 
to  pay  her  debts,  replied  : — 

*•  It  is  too  late  to  begin  anything  new  now  that  the 
end  is  so  near." 


354 


CHAPTER   XVII 

Mme  Campan  moves  house  for  the  last  time — Her  son  comes  to  live 
with  her — Her  last  pupils — Illness  and  death  of  her  only  child — 
She  pays  a  visit  to  "  Petite  Bonne  " — The  finger  of  Death  touches 
her — One  of  Napoleon's  braves — She  lays  down  her  burden. 

In  March  1816  Mme  Campan  took  a  tiny  house  at 
Mantes,  where  one  of  her  former  pupils,  Mile  Crouzet, 
had  married  a  Dr.  Maigne,  and  where  she  hoped  to 
spend  her  last  years  working  in  her  garden,  tending 
her  hens  and  chickens,  and  comforted  by  her  faithful 
(companion,  Mme)  Voisin. 

In  the  following  month  Mme  Campan  had  the 
consolation  of  receiving  a  letter,  nominally  from  the 
duchesse  de  Tourzel,  but  probably  dictated  by  the 
duchesse  d'Angoul^me,  whose  heart  perhaps  had  been 
touched  on  hearing  of  the  **  Petite  Augui^'s  "  terrible 
grief : — 

•*  I  can  quite  understand,  Madame,  the  pain  you 
feel  whenever  doubts  are  cast  upon  your  attachment 
and  fidelity  to  the  august  princess  (Marie  Antoinette) 
whom  you  had  the  honour  to  serve.  It  is  with  great 
pleasure  that  I  do  justice  to  you  by  saying  that  during 
the  three  years  I  was  with  our  great  and  all-too- 
unhappy  queen  I  always  saw  you  eager  to  show  your 
respect  and  affection.     I  witnessed  the  truth  that  she 

355 


THE  CELEBKATED  MADAME  CAMPAT^ 

gave  you  special  proofs  of  her  confidence,  and  that 
you  showed  discretion  and  fidelity  in  divers  circum- 
stances. You  gave  her  proofs  on  the  occasion  of  that 
unfortunate  journey  to  Varennes,  and  certain  rumours 
concerning  this  event  were  most  unjust.  I  saw  you 
at  the  Feuillants  on  the  night  of  August  lo  present 
to  the  queen  your  homage  of  grief,  although  you  were 
not  on  duty  at  that  time.  I  am  glad  to  render  you 
this  justice,  and  I  should  esteem  myself  happy  if  my 
letter  in  some  measure  could  console  you  for  the 
anguish  with  which  your  heart  is  filled. — I  remain, 
Madame,  yours,  etc., 

"  Croy  d' Havre,  duchesse  de  Tourzel." 

Soon  after  settling  at  Mantes,  Mme  Campan  had 
the  pleasure  of  welcoming  her  son,  who,  having  been 
ill  ever  since  his  release  from  prison,  came  to  try  to 
recover  his  health  in  the  pure  air  of  that  little  town. 
Like  all  Frenchmen,  his  idea  of  happiness  was  to 
possess  a  garden,  be  it  no  larger  than  a  pocket- 
handkerchief  ;  so,  as  soon  as  he  felt  a  little  stronger, 
he  set  to  work  to  dig,  plant,  rake,  prune,  and  sow  as 
if  his  life  depended  upon  it.  Indeed,  he  worked  so 
hard  that  he  had  a  relapse,  and  had  to  take  to  his 
bed.  Mme  Campan  had  her  hands  full  nursing  her 
son  ;  her  eyes  gave  her  much  pain  about  this  time, 
but  she  bore  all  her  troubles  bravely,  and  wrote  to 
Mile  Cochelet :  "  Why  should  I  complain  ?  My  son, 
my  friends,  the  sunshine,  the  country  air  which  I 
breathe,  life  itself,  mental  and  physical  pleasures, 
make  me  forget  my  pains  and  anxieties  ;  and  when 
the  moment  comes  for  me  to  bid  farewell  to  all,  and 
to  sink  into  that  slumber  which  we  long  for  in  the 

356 


THE  EVENING  OF  LIFE 

hour    of    trial,    we    shall    exclaim    like    the    wood- 
cutter : — 

"  *  Give  me  back  my  faggot ! '"  ^ 

From  a  message  to  the  Abb6  Bernard,  once  her 
chaplain  at  Saint-Germain,  now  tutor  to  Hortense's 
sons,  we  learn  that  Mme  Campan  is  not  so  fond  of 
church-going  as  many  of  her  sex  are,  but  she  promises 
to  go  more  regularly.  One  thing  she  dreads,  and  that 
is  gossip,  which  she  expects  to  find  as  rampant  at 
Mantes  as  in  Paris. 

In  the  following  letter  to  her  "  Petite  Bonne"  she 
draws  a  graphic  description  of  the  evening  of  her 
life  :— 

"  Mantes,  April  28,  1816. 

*'  We  have  now  been  at  Mantes  for  a  month ;  not 
an  hour  passes  that  my  son  does  not  endeavour  to 
please  me,  amuse  me,  make  me  forget  my  sadness. 
He  reads  aloud  better  than  I  ever  read  even  in  my 
best  days.  We,  good  Voisin,  he  and  I,  finish  our 
evenings  round  a  little  table.  My  house  is  small  but 
pretty,  and  adorned  with  the  portraits  of  my  dear 
pupils,  so  pleasant  to  my  eyes,  because  they  remind 
me  of  such  happy  days.  I  keep  my  little  refuge 
scrupulously  clean,  although  I  only  have  one  servant ; 
luckily  my  good  Voisin  helps  me  keep  house.  My 
garden  is  in  proportion  to  the  house,  but  fairly  pretty, 
and  I  shall  have  at  least  sixty  pears  and  eighty  peaches 
this  summer.  The  town  is  very  pretty  ;  you  used  to 
pass  through  it,  Madame,  on  your  way  to  Navarre, 
and  I  love  to  think  that  your  eyes  have  gazed  upon 
this    bridge    and    the    banks    of    the    Seine.     The 

*  An  allusion  to  the  well-known  fable  of  Death  and  the  Woodman, 
translated  into  French  by  La  Fontaine,  J.  B.  Rousseau,  and  Boileau. 

357 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

inhabitants  of  Mantes,  that  is  to  say,  the  poorer 
classes,  are  kind  and  gentle-mannered.  One  does  not 
hear  wrangling  on  the  market-place ;  one  does  not 
see  women  pulling  off  each  other's  caps,  no  cruel 
mother  smacking  her  son  on  the  doorstep  and  punish- 
ing him  without  telling  him  the  why  or  the  wherefore. 
.  .  .  As  for  the  fashionable  folk  of  Mantes,  I  have 
thought  it  better  not  to  try  to  find  out  if  I  am  to 
their  taste  or  not.  I  have  only  paid  official  visits. 
The  cathedral  is  magnificent.  William  the  Conqueror, 
during  one  of  his  little  fits  of  temper,  burnt  it  down, 
but  then  repented  and  had  it  very  handsomely  rebuilt. 
.  .  .  If  I  had  not  to  think  about  the  horrible  remains 
of  the  debts  contracted  at  Saint-Germain,  which  my 
son's  non-advancement  has  prevented  me  paying  off,  I 
should  no  longer  have  any  worries  as  to  my  expenses 
here  ;  but  I  have  so  little  left,  and  these  illnesses  have 
cost  me  so  much  money  that  I  am  very  hard  up.  I 
never  could  have  remained  in  Paris.  .  .  .  Alas !  for 
old  affections.  Alas !  for  old  acquaintances.  The 
century  in  which  we  live  has  robbed  us  of  all  we  loved, 
even  of  the  privilege  of  living  near  our  dear  ones,  and 
of  the  hope  of  meeting  again.  I  work,  I  sew,  I  write, 
I  make  tapestry.  I  send  you  by  Elisa  some  little  mats 
to  preserve  mahogany  and  marble-topped  tables  from 
tea-stains  ;  they  are  invented  by  my  sister  Rousseau, 
who  is  very  particular  about  such  matters.  .  .  ." 

Mme  Campan's  old  age  was  brightened  by  the 
friendship  of  thirty  years'  duration  of  the  good  Mme 
Voisin,  whose  education  seems  to  have  been  somewhat 
neglected,  **for,"  says  her  mistress,  "she  reads  aloud 
while  I  sew,  and  sometimes  she  says,  like  the  old  due 

358 


HER  LAST  PUPILS 

de  Laval,  Plutarch  instead  of  Petrarch  or  even 
patraque^  and  that  without  any  wish  to  ridicule  the 
author ;  but  I  have  got  so  completely  into  the  habit 
of  changing  the  words  mangled  by  my  reader  that 
these  little  alterations  do  not  put  me  out  in  the  least, 
because  the  tone  of  her  voice  is  very  pleasant  to 
hear." 

Mme  Voisin  shared  her  mistress's  worship  for 
**  Petite  Bonne,"  for  Mme  Campan  says :  "  Good 
Mme  Voisin  impatiently  awaits  your  portrait  ;  she 
was  so  touched  by  your  letter  that  she  shed  tears,  and 
she  says  that  she  shall  immediately  have  it  mounted 
as  a  breast-pin,  'for,'  says  she,  'her  hands  are  much 
too  ugly  to  wear  any  jewellery  ' — but  what  a  kind  heart 
those  ugly  paws  belong  to  !  .  .  .  " 

In  a  letter  signed  La  Vieille  de  la  Cabane,  an 
echo  of  the  days  of  Ney's  marriage  to  her  niece,  when 
Hortense  had  been  one  of  the  merriest  of  the  merry 
guests,  Mme  Campan  says  that  she  has  been  obliged 
to  go  up  to  Paris  for  medical  treatment,  where, 
*' during  the  space  of  two  months,  she  has  had  to 
spend  eighteen  francs  every  morning  in  baths, 
douches,  and  medicines  before  she  swallows  her 
early  cup  of  chocolate  !  " 

On  recovering  her  health,  Mme  Campan,  with  a 
view  to  earning  a  little  money  and  at  the  same  time 
satisfy  her  passion  for  educating  young  people,  took 
two  young  English  girls,  deux  charmantes  miss  [sic], 
into  her  house  with  the  understanding  that  they  were 
to  remain  with  her  for  five  months,  during  which  time 
she  would  teach  them  French. 

*  Patraque  is  said  of  a  person  worn  out  by  illness,  also  of  a  worn- 
out  machine. 

359 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

**Oh!  happy  days!"  she  writes  in  July  1817, 
**  when  I  used  to  go  into  my  garden  at  Saint-Germain 
and  call :  '  Hortense  !  Egle  !  Alexandrine  !  Adele  ! 
Where  are  you  ? '  .  .  .  I  and  my  son  feel  quite 
lost.  .  .  .  My  heart  feels  the  need  of  being  sur- 
rounded by  young  people.  Youth  represents  hope  ; 
young  people  only  live,  only  exist  for  hope !  This 
sentiment  is  the  sweetest  of  all,  and  experience  teaches 
us  that  hope  contains  the  germ  of  every  happiness." 

"Die  Hoffnung  fiihrt  ihn  ins  Leben  ein, 

Sie  umflattert  den  frohlichen  Knaben, 

Den  Jiingling  begeistert  ihr  Zauberschein  : 

Den  beschliesst  er  im  Grabe  den  miiden  Lauf, 

Noch  am  Grabe  pflanzt  er  die  Hoffnung  auf." 

Mme  Campan  now  proposed  to  realize  what 
remained  of  her  capital  in  order  to  pay  off  the  debt 
of  30,000  francs  still  owing,  thereby  leaving  herself 
with  a  similar  sum  to  invest  for  her  son  who,  with 
his  bad  health  and  advancing  years,  had  given  up  all 
hope  of  obtaining  a  remunerative  position. 

Poor  Henri  Campan  was  fated  to  be  disappointed  ; 
in  order  to  help  his  mother,  he  took  the  trouble  to 
translate  Rob  Roy  into  French ;  he  had  just  ac- 
complished his  task  when  he  learnt  from  a  news- 
paper article  that  the  book  had  already  been 
translated. 

When  in  181 8  one  of  her  former  pupils.  Mile 
Kastner,  opened  a  boarding-school  for  little  girls, 
Maman  Campan  wrote  to  her :  '*  Take  a  tender 
interest  in  all  the  poor  little  things  confided  to  your 
care.  Look  upon  the  children  with  a  mother's  eye. 
Say  to  yourself  when  tending  the  very  little  ones : 
'  This   one   has   lost   her   mother ! '  or :  *  That   one's 

360 


PRINCE  OUI-OUI 

mother  is  depriving  herself  of  necessaries  for  her 
good, '  and  then  add  :  *  I  will  act  the  part  of  a  mother 
toher!'  .  .  ." 

In  this  same  year  Mme  Campan  heard  that  her 
widowed  niece,  Mme  Ney,  was  anxious  to  settle  in 
Rome  with  her  children ;  this  plan  the  aunt  did  not 
approve  of,  but  recommended  her  to  send  her  children 
to  a  Swiss  or  German  school,  where  they  would  learn 
German,  which  would  be  more  useful  to  them  than 
Italian. 

Mme  Campan  spent  much  of  her  time  making 
little  presents  for  her  beloved  Hortense ;  many  were 
the  small  packets  sent  from  Mantes  to  Arenenberg : 
footstools  in  the  hideous  worsted-work  of  the  day, 
knitted  quilts,  pots  of  home-made  preserve,  and 
recipes  for  puddings,  which  she  thinks  **  Prince  Oui- 
Oui  "  ^  will  find  toothsome. 

Eliza  Monroe,  now  happily  married  in  America  to 
a  Mr.  Hay  and  the  mother  of  a  little  daughter 
baptized  Hortense  Eugenie  after  Eliza's  two  play- 
fellows at  Saint-Germain,  did  not  forget  her  old 
governess,  and  many  were  the  letters  which  she  wrote 
to  Mantes,  although  she  found  that,  for  some  reason 
or  the  other,  they  frequently  miscarried  or  were 
intercepted. 

"  Tell  my  dear  Hortense  and  my  poor  Egle," 
writes  she  after  a  request  to  Mme  Campan  to  send 
her  a  portrait  of  her  old  governess,  "  that  my  thoughts 
have  often  been  with  them  in  their  troubles.  Tell 
the  former  that  nine  years  ago  I  gave  birth  to  a  little 
daughter,  who  is  luckily  much  prettier  than  her  mama, 
for  she  has  my  mother's  eyes  and  features.     Tell  her 

^  Hortense's  second  son,  Napoleon-Louis. 

361 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

that  we  consider  that  the  greatest  honour  we  can 
show  a  person  is  to  ask  them  to  be  sponsor  to  our 
children  ;  at  the  time  of  my  child's  birth,  my  father 
and  mother  took  i4pon  themselves  to  act  for  my 
daughter  as  if  they  had  already  obtained  the  per- 
mission of  my  dear  schoolfellow  and  her  estimable 
brother.  The  child  bears  their  two  names.  We,  at 
the  same  time,  sent  Mr.  Morris  with  dispatches  from 
our  Government  to  pay  our  respects,  and  inform  them 
of  what  we  had  done  ;  but  we  received  no  reply.  .  .  . 
My  little  daughter  often  talks  about  her  godfather 
and  godmother.  I  have  ventured  to  ask  them  to 
send  me  good  copies  of  their  portraits,  which  shall 
belong  to  my  child.  Times  have  changed,  not  so 
my  affection  ;  friendship  should  remain  untouched  by 
the  things  of  this  world,  and  my  daughter  will  be 
honoured  for  ever  on  receiving  these  two  portraits, 
which  will  be  the  most  beautiful  ornament  in  her 
room.  ..." 

It  was  at  Eliza  Monroe's  request  that  her  father 
wrote  to  M.  Hyde  de  Neuville  begging  him  to 
interest  the  due  de  Richelieu  in  favour  of  Mme 
Campan's  son ;  but  again  the  past  of  Marie 
Antoinette's  former  waiting-woman  rose  up  and  stood 
in  the  way  of  advancement. 

Although  the  memory  of  Ecouen  was  fatal  to 
Mme  Campan's  interest  in  some  quarters,  this  was 
not  always  the  case  ;  for  she  found  that  her  former 
teachers  were  in  great  request,  as  were  her  pupils, 
many  of  whom  were  now  forced  to  earn  their 
daily  bread.  "Ah,"  said  she,  "how  my  heart  bled 
when  I  heard  that  one  of  the  little  girls  whose 
petticoats  I  once  used  to  mend  and  whose  religious 

362 


DEATH  OF  HER  ONLY  CHILD 

and  moral  principles  I  once  carefully  guarded,  was 
covered  with  a  pauper's  rags  !  " 

During  the  spring  of  1820,  Mme  Campan  learnt 
that  Louis  xviii  was  about  to  bestow  several  small 
pensions  of  2000  francs  upon  Marie  Antoinette's  former 
chief  waiting- women  ;  her  endeavours  to  persuade  the 
duchesse  de  Luynes  to  speak  for  her  met  with  no 
response.  Was  not  Mme  Campan  too  fond  even 
now  of  asserting  with  pride  :  "  I  educated  nearly  all 
the  Imperial  princesses  !  "  ? 

In  August,  Henri  Campan  had  a  slight  stroke 
of  paralysis  which  greatly  alarmed  his  mother,  and 
forced  her  to  acknowledge  that,  even  supposing  he 
ever  obtained  the  long-expected  appointment,  he 
would  probably  not  be  able  to  accept  it.  Needless 
to  say  that  the  efforts  of  Davout,  Macdonald,  and 
M.  de  Lally-Tollendal  to  obtain  for  him  the  post  of 
librarian  at  one  of  the  three  public  libraries  in  Paris 
came  to  naught.  Thinking  to  comfort  their  old 
friend,  Hortense  and  Eugene  promised  to  continue  to 
pay  to  Henri  after  her  death  the  pension  which  she 
owed  to  their  generosity.  But  Fate  was  to  annul 
that  promise. 

Early  In  January  182 1,  Henri  went  up  to  Paris, 
where  he  caught  a  bad  chill  which  settled  on  his 
lungs  ;  enfeebled  by  his  late  illness  he,  at  the  end  of 
four  or  five  days,  had  only  just  sufficient  strength  left 
to  scribble  off  a  few  lines  to  his  mother — his  last 
letter,  for  two  days  later  he  was  dead. 

Dr.  Maigne,  the  husband  of  Mme  Campan's 
former  pupil,  gives  an  account  of  the  scene  enacted 
in  the  little  house  at  Mantes  when  Maman  Campan 
learnt  that  the  son  who  had  never  given  her  a  day's 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

anxiety  or  caused  her  to  shed  a  single  tear,  had  gone 
to  prepare  the  way. 

"I  have  never  beheld,"  says  he,  "a  more  heart- 
rending scene  than  that  which  I  witnessed  when  the 
marechale  Ney,  her  niece,  and  Mme  Pannelier,  her 
sister,  came  to  tell  her  the  terrible  news.  She  was 
still  in  bed  when  they  entered  the  room.  All  three 
immediately  uttered  piercing  shrieks.  H er  two  visitors 
flung  themselves  on  their  knees  and  began  to  kiss  her 
hands.  They  had  no  time  to  tell  her  anything ;  she 
read  in  their  faces  that  she  no  longer  had  a  son. 
Her  big  eyes  began  to  roll,  she  turned  pale,  her  face 
became  distorted,  her  lips  white.  From  her  mouth 
issued  broken  phrases,  accompanied  by  piercing  cries. 
She  seemed  to  lose  all  control  over  her  limbs  and 
speech.  Every  particle  of  her  being  was  racked  with 
grief.  This  unhappy  mother  seemed  on  the  point  of 
suffocating.  Tears  alone  were  able  to  calm  her  agony 
and  despair.  The  impression  I  received  that  day  will 
last  as  long  as  I  live." 

In  future  her  one  desire  was  to  join  her  son  in 
Paradise.  Can  anything  be  sadder  than  this  letter 
written  by  her  to  one  of  her  friends  ? 

"  You  knew  the  kind,  good  son  for  whom  I  am 
now  weeping.  Alas  !  our  habits,  our  lives  become 
very  mechanical.  ...  He  was  often  away  from  home  ; 
sometimes  I  fancy  he  is  still  in  Paris  ;  then  the  illusion 
suddenly  fades  and  I  cry :  *  Not  absent,  but  lost ! 
lost  for  ever  ! '  And  then  I  remember  that  I  shall  go 
to  join  him.     Oh  !  my  God  !  " 

She  found  consolation  in  gazing  at  the  portrait  of 
her  lost  child.  **  Genuine  sorrow,"  said  she,  "finds 
consolation  in  contemplating  the  portraits  of  our  dear 

364 


A  LONELY  OLD  AGE 

ones.     I    do   not   believe  in  the   grief  of  those  who 
refuse  to  do  so." 

Three  days  after  his  death  she  herself  wrote  to 
tell  Hortense,  who  was  then  at  Augsburg,  what  had 
befallen  her  : — 

"  Mh.HT'E.'&f  January  29,  1821. 

"  Madame,  I  am  still  alive,  and  yet  I  have  lost 
him  for  whom  I  lived !  I  ceased  to  be  a  mother  on 
the  26th  of  this  month.  Behold  my  sorrow  !  but  my 
broken  heart  still  loves.  .  .  .  Alas !  I  call  Henri  ;  he 
no  longer  hears  me,  he  no  longer  replies.  He  sleeps 
side  by  side  with  the  brave  fellow  (Ney)  who  has 
already  been  joined  by  his  father-in-law,  his  brother-in- 
law,  his  cousin.  Henri  had  just  spent  six  months 
with  me ;  he  was  about  to  return  home  altered, 
crushed,  but  as  intelligent  as  ever,  and  having 
cultivated  his  mind  beyond  anything  you  can  imagine. 
What  a  loss  I  have  sustained  in  my  old  age  !  He 
was  the  ever-vibrating  chord  in  my  heart  and  soul. 
How  perfectly  we  understood  one  another!  How 
dearly  we  loved  one  another !  Tell  the  prince 
(Eugene)  that  he  has  lost  a  faithful  and  enlightened 
friend.  Rank  and  education  do  not  prevent  us 
appreciating  our  true  friends — you  know  that,  Madame. 
Strength  fails  me  to  write  more.  Egld  and  Mme 
Pannelier  are  with  me.  I  send  you  my  love  and  my 
respects." 

Before  many  months  had  passed  Mme  Campan  felt 
the  first  symptoms  of  the  disease — cancer — which  was 
to  re-unite  her  to  her  beloved  son.  She  guessed  what 
was  the  matter  with  her,  for  she  wrote  to  Hortense : 
•*  I    still  hope  that  Providence  will   spare  me   those 

365 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAIS 

dreadful  pains  which  always  terminate  in  a  horrible 
death." 

The  doctors  recommended  a  cure  at  Baden  ;  the 
prospect  of  combining  a  visit  to  "  Petite  Bonne " 
with  that  cure  kept  her  occupied  until  the  month  of 
July. 

"  I  have  many  little  parcels  for  you,  Madame," 
she  writes  to  Hortense,  "and  also  for  princess 
Augusta  (Eugene's  wife) ;  they  have  been  packed  very 
carefully.  I  am  grieved  to  keep  you  waiting.  A 
pretty  umbrella  standing  in  my  room  makes  my  heart 
ache  when  the  rain  begins  to  patter  against  the 
window-pane,  for  nothing  could  be  more  seasonable. 
.  .  .  Mme  Lacroix  has  brought  me  some  more  articles  ; 
all  the  light  ones  are  already  stowed  away  in  a  box 
which  is  suspended  beneath  my  chariot ;  but  I  vexed 
the  poor  creature  by  refusing  two  dozen  chemises. 
A  very  painful  operation  has  been  performed  on  my 
leg  with  a  view  to  dispersing  the  humours,  and  my 
limb  will  have  to  get  a  little  better  before  I  can  think 
of  starting.  You  can  guess  what  is  the  matter  with 
me.  Alas  !  they  are  anxious  to  keep  my  old  machine 
in  working  order,  and  I  am  thankful  to  think  that  it 
can  still  carry  me  as  far  as  Baden." 

The  physicians  had  recommended  that  Mme 
Campan's  leg  should  be  cauterized  in  order  to  reduce 
the  inflammation  in  her  breast,  where  cancer  had 
declared  itself.  As  soon  as  she  was  strong  enough 
to  travel  she  went  to  Baden  in  Switzerland,  where 
the  cure  was  brightened  by  the  presence  of  Hortense, 
who,  when  the  baths  were  finished,  took  her  old 
governess  to  Arenenberg,  and  kept  the  Invalid  with 
her  until  October.     The  memory  of  those  happy  hours 

366 


JOHN  BULL  ON  HIS  TRAVELS 

was  to  brighten  Maman  Campan's  last  moments. 
She  left  Arenenberg  in  better  spirits  than  she  had 
been  since  Henri's  death ;  from  Schaffhausen  she 
wrote  quite  cheerily  : — 

*'  I  saluted  Arenenberg  from  the  opposite  side  of 
the  lake.  I  cried  :  '  Oh,  peaceful  spot,  I  shall  look 
upon  you  again  some  day ! '  This  thought  alone 
prevented  tears  from  making  an  unwelcome  appear- 
ance. ...   I  met  Mme  de  L and  her  children,  who 

happened  to  be  changing  horses  just  as  I  arrived  at 
the  first  stage  after  Constance.  They  stopped  like 
me  at  the  Boat  Inn,  but  they  went  off  without  dining. 
They  were  quite  English  in  their  behaviour  and 
bawled  out  :  '  Bring  us  a  dinner  at  forty  sous  a-head 
in  our  own  rooms,  or  we  will  go  to  another  inn.' 
Whereupon  the  waiter  replied  in  a  calm  voice : 
*Well,  then,  be  off  with  you!'  However,  they  are 
an  agreeable  family.  The  English  travel  for  three 
reasons :  firstly,  because  they  want  to  economize  ; 
secondly,  because  they  want  to  be  amused  ;  thirdly, 
because  they  wish  to  learn  ;  it  is  quite  proper  that 
they  should  attach  the  greatest  importance  to  the 
first   reason,    economy,    which  in    most   cases  is  the 

cause  of  their  presence  abroad.     Mme  de  L seems 

determined  to  spend  the  winter  at  Augsburg  ;  she  and 
her  children  will  make  very  pleasant  drawing-room 
furniture ! " 

In  another  letter  Mme  Campan  gives  an  account 
of  a  very  strange  meeting  with  the  cousin  of  the 
generous  Englishman,  Bruce,  ^  who  had  helped 
Emilie  de  Lavalette  to  save  her  husband  :  **  I  slept 
last  night  at  Laufenburg  in  a  very  pretty  inn.  A 
^  See  page  350. 

367 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMP  AN 

few  minutes  before  sitting  down  to  supper,  the  inn- 
keeper's wife  came  to  ask  me  if  I  would  allow  two 
Englishmen,  whom  I  had  just  seen  arrive  in  a  very 
elegant  equipage,  to  sup  at  my  table.  I  accepted. 
We  sat  down  to  table.  The  oldest  asked  the 
youngest :  '*  What  do  you  think  of  that  old  lady?'  in 
English.  I  immediately  said  to  them  in  the  same 
language :  *  Gentlemen,  I  think  I  shall  be  obeying 
the  rules  of  good  society  when  I  tell  you  that  I  have 
spoken  your  language  since  my  childhood.'  Where- 
upon the  Englishman  began  to  rattle  off  his  English 
as  quickly  as  we  French  rattle  off  our  language.  I 
asked  where  they  were  going ;  the  eldest  replied  to 
Munich  or  to  Florence  ;  and  I  saw  by  his  indifference 
as  to  where  he  went  that  he  was  tormented  with  the 
mania  for  travelling  from  which  those  dear  English 
(sic)  suffer.  However,  all  roads  lead  to  Rome,  and 
they  can  get  there  quite  well  via  Saint  Petersburg. 
The  younger  Englishman  reminded  me  of  Mr.  Bruce, 
only  he  was  much  handsomer.  I  mentioned  that 
gentleman's  name,  whereupon  the  elder  said  :  *  This 
gentleman  is  the  cousin  and  friend  of  Mr.  Bruce.' 
I  begged  him,  when  he  saw  Mr.  Bruce  again,  to  give 
him  the  best  wishes  of  a  Frenchwoman  who  is  deeply 
attached  to  him.  Other  remarks  made  me  think 
that  the  elder  gentleman  was  tutor  or  paid  guide  to 
the  younger :  the  latter  is  Scotch  and  his  name  is  Mr. 
Cuningham ;  the  former  is  English  and  is  named 
Conway." 

The  return  to  the  little  home  at  Mantes  was  very 
painful  to  Mme  Campan.  Soon  after  her  return  she 
was  advised  by  the  doctors,  who  still  hoped  to  cure 
her,  to  have  her  other  leg  cauterized.     This  treatment 

368 


THE  END  IN  SIGHT 

having  had  no  effect,  Mme  Campan  was  informed  in 
November  by  Dr.  Voisin,  a  celebrated  surgeon  and  a 
namesake  of  her  faithful  companion,  that  she  would 
have  to  undergo  the  horrible  operation  so  touchingly 
described  in  Rab  and  his  Friends.  It  was  in  the 
deepest  mental  and  physical  distress  that  she  wrote  to 
tell  her  beloved  pupil  : — 

*'  Madame,  before  you  receive  this  letter  I  shall 
have  undergone  an  operation  which  I  could  not  avoid 
without  running  the  risk  of  a  cancer  in  the  breast.  The 
gland  has  hardened  and  become  more  painful  ;  we 
must  not  give  it  time  to  form  into  an  abscess,  which 
would  mean  certain  death.  We  women-folk  can  only 
show  heroism  in  our  homes  ;  we  can  only  hope  to 
earn  praise  by  being  resigned,  and  by  not  pushing 
ourselves  forward.  I  shall  have  need  of  all  my 
courage  ;  I  will  be  brave.  It  will  be  a  hard  morning's 
task,  but  Voisin  assures  me  that  I  shall  soon  be  well 
again.  He  considers  that  the  malady  was  caused  by 
the  great  shock,  and  that  it  was  not  in  the  blood. 
The  operation  lasts  two  or  three  minutes.  He  thinks 
that  my  health  has  been  much  improved  by  that 
charming  visit,  and  indeed  he  is  quite  right :  the  good 
which  it  did  to  my  spirits  has  influenced  my  whole 
existence.  .  .  ." 

She  longed  yet  dreaded  to  see  her  tumour,  "  that 
horrible  stone  in  my  garden "  as  she  called  it,  re- 
moved. Poor  Mme  Voisin,  the  faithful  companion 
of  so  many  years,  was  quite  broken  by  her  friend  s 
illness,  and  could  neither  sleep  nor  eat,  so  that  Mme 
Campan  became  seriously  concerned  for  her  health. 

Poor  Mme  Campan  was  trying  hard  to  walk  in 
the  footsteps  of  those  braves  who  had  so  often  faced 
2  A  369 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

death,  **her  comrade,"  as  she  called  the  Last 
Messenger,  ''  whom  we  will  chase  away  !  " 

The  weather  becoming  suddenly  very  cold,  the 
surgeons  decided  to  postpone  the  operation.  During 
those  days  of  waiting  the  invalid  received  a  visit  from 
the  comte  Christian  de  Nicolai,  the  husband  of  one 
of  her  former  pupils,  to  whom  she,  realizing  that  the 
end  was  near,  gave  one  of  her  most  precious  souvenirs 
— a  lock  of  the  great  Emperor's  hair.  In  December 
her  mental  anguish  nearly  brought  on  an  attack  of 
brain  fever,  and  again  the  dreaded  operation  had  to 
be  postponed.  But  twenty  leeches  and  as  many 
blisters  reduced  the  fever,  so  that  on  the  last  day  of 
the  old  year  (182 1)  she  was  able  to  scribble  a  few 
lines  to  Hortense  : — 

•*  I  should  like  to  write  to  the  prince  (Eugene), 
but  I  am  not  strong  enough.  My  illness  has  been 
very  severe  ;  the  leeches,  the  blisters,  and  especially 
the  quinquina,  pulled  me  round.  They  promise  me 
that  I  shall  recover.  I  must  end  now,  for  the  buzzing 
in  my  head  has  begun  again." 

The  day  before  undergoing  the  operation  Mme 
Campan  confessed  and  received  Holy  Communion, 
after  which  she  wrote  to  Hortense  begging  her,  *'in 
case  heaven  should  dispose  of  me,"  to  see  that  Mme 
Voisin  did  not  come  to  want,  and  ending  with  a 
prayer  that  her  dear  pupil  would  take  care  of  her 
health  and  not  strain  her  eyes. 

Up  to  the  last  minute  she  was  conversing  calmly 
with  her  doctors,  MM.  Voisin  and  Maigne. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  she,  "I  much  prefer  to  hear 
you  talk  than  to  see  you  at  work.  The  time  has 
come  to  give  battle ;  I  think  my  head  is  quite  clear. 

370 


ONE  OF  NAPOLEON'S  BRAVES 

I  shall  see  what  a  strong  will  can  do,  and  whether 
pain  will  be  able  to  quell  my  spirit.  It  was  my  spirit 
which  forced  me  to  remain  in  the  Tuileries  on 
August  lo.  The  blood  and  the  cries  terrified  me, 
but  I  kept  cool,  and  I  could  have  given  some  very 
good  advice  during  the  siege.  .  .  .  Come,  don't  let  us 
be  behindhand  ;  everything  is  ready.  Set  to  work. 
I  long  to  be  able  to  speak  of  the  operation  as  of 
something  that  is  past  and  over." 

Her  sister,  Mme  Pannelier,  her  good  friend  Mme 
Voisin,  as  well  as  one  of  her  nieces,  were  with  her 
during  the  operation,  in  the  course  of  which  she  turned 
pale  as  death  and  showed  slight  signs  of  the  cruel 
pain  she  was  enduring,  but  not  a  cry  or  groan  escaped 
her  lips.  Indeed  M.  Heymes,  one  of  Napoleon's 
braves  and  formerly  aide-de-camp  to  Marshal  Ney, 
who  assisted  at  the  operation,  seemed  much  more 
affected  than  her,  and  at  one  time  appeared  on  the 
point  of  fainting. 

After  the  operation,  M.  Maigne  remained  with 
his  patient  until  nightfall.  When  her  doctors  hinted 
a  few  days  later  that  she  might  have  to  take  some 
sulphurous  baths  to  complete  her  cure,  she  worried 
herself  as  she  lay  in  bed  wondering  whether  she 
would  be  able  to  pay  for  them.  On  February  17, 
1822,  she  dictated  the  following  letter,  her  last,  to  her 
"  Petite  Bonne  "  :— 

*'  Madame,  dear,  good,  amiable,  adored  and 
adorable  Madame,  I  cannot  yet  write  to  you,  but  I  can 
dictate,  and  that  is  a  great  deal.  I  am  still  on  my  back 
drinking  whey  and — for  a  pleasant  change — a  little 
chicken  broth.  I  have  just  fought  a  terrible  battle  on 
the  borders  of  life.     I  had  guessed  what  it  would  be, 

371 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

and  I  needed  courage.  The  operation  was  very 
cleverly  done,  but  it  was  extremely  painful.  I  needed 
an  example  of  physical  and  mental  strength,  so  I  got 
a  colonel  in  the  artillery,  M.  Heymes,  to  hold  me. 
The  poor  fellow  was  bathed  in  perspiration.  He  said 
that  he  would  far  rather  have  assisted  at  four  battles  ; 
I  can  quite  believe  him.  .  .  .  They  all  try  to  see  who 
can  cosset  me  the  most.  I  should  suffer  very  little  if 
the  wound  had  not  been  attacked  by  rheumatic  pains. 
...  I  fancy  I  see  Arenenberg  again,  but  I  also  see 
you  starting  for  Italy  in  September  while  I  return 
along  the  road  to  Mantes.  They  are  scolding  me  for 
dictating  such  a  long  letter  ;  but  I  still  want  to  say 
something  more.  If  you  see  the  prince  (Eugene)  I 
beg  you,  Madame,  to  speak  of  me  to  him,  and  tell 
him  that  I  am  une  brave,  that  I  saw  my  blood  flow 
without  fainting,  and  that  I  have  submitted  to  a 
regime  of  lint  and  bandages  just  like  all  those  poor 
braves  who  gathered  so  many  laurels  under  his  com- 
mands. I  know  how  that  dear  little  *  Prince  Oui- 
Oui  *  has  felt  for  me  in  my  pain  and  suffering  ;  I  can 
see  his  little  eyes  full  of  tears — they  have  soothed  my 
wound.  Adieu,  Madame,  they  are  screaming  at  me, 
they  are  scolding  me  ;  but  I  hope  in  a  fortnight  to  be 
able  to  do  what  I  want,  and  that  will  be  to  adore  you 
and  to  tell  you  so  until  my  last  hour." 

The  letter  is  unsigned.  Scribbled  at  the  bottom 
of  the  page  are  these  words:  '' Mfue  Canipan  cannot 
sign  her  name.'' 

"  Toutes  les  heures  nous  biessent,  la  dernilre  nous  tue'^ 

The  wound  healed,  but  complications  appeared, 
and    very    soon    the    patient's     breathing     became 


SHE  SETS  HER  HOUSE  IN  ORDER 

laboured.  Knowing  that  she  had  not  long  to  live, 
she  made  her  will.  To  two  servants,  Chenier  and 
Genevieve,  who,  she  said,  had  become  like  members 
of  the  family,  she  left  presents  of  money,  while  to 
Mme  Voisin  she  bequeathed  her  dearest  possession, 
a  portrait  of  "  Petite  Bonne." 

Mme  Voisin's  grief  was  pitiable  to  behold.  "  Be 
brave  !  "  the  dying  woman  whispered  to  her,  "death 
cannot  part  two  such  true  friends  as  we  have 
been  ! " 

On  the  day  of  her  death  she  begged  for  the 
window  to  be  opened.  It  was  one  of  those  mild  days 
in  March  when  all  Nature  seems  to  rejoice  at  the  ap- 
proach of  spring.  The  sky  was  as  blue  and  the  air 
as  sweet  and  fresh  as  it  had  been  at  Arenenberg. 

"  Ah  !  "  she  murmured  towards  nightfall  to  Dr. 
Maigne,  '*the  air  to-day  reminds  me  of  Switzerland. 
'Tis  the  evening  of  a  beautiful  day,  troubled  but  by 
few  clouds.  How  glad  I  am  that  I  went  to  Switzer- 
land !  I  spent  two  months  of  perfect  happiness  there. 
Hortense  has  a  beautiful  disposition  ;  we  understand 
one  another  so  perfectly  !  " 

Her  last  message  was  for  **  Petite  Bonne." 

She  died  the  same  evening  (March  i6,  1822). 
She  was  laid  to  rest  in  the  cemetery  of  Mantes,  a 
monument  consisting  of  a  white  marble  column 
surmounted  by  an  urn  in  the  style  of  the  period 
bearing  a  simple  inscription  being  erected  by  members 
of  her  family. 

Mme  Voisin  wrote  immediately  after  her  friend's 
death  to  Hortense,  telling  her  that  Maman  Campan 
was  no  more  : — 

*'  She  loved  you  dearly,   Madame,  and  until  she 

373 


THE  CELEBRATED  MADAME  CAMPAN 

drew  her  last  breath  her  eyes  never  ceased  to  gaze  at 
your  portrait  which  stood  at  the  foot  of  her  bed."^ 

Mme  Voisin  soon  followed  her  old  friend  and  was 
buried  in  the  same  grave. 

*'  Death  arrives  graciously  to  such  as  sit  in 
darkness  or  lie  heavy  burthened  with  grief,  ...  to 
despairful  widows,  pensive  prisoners,  and  dethroned 
kings  ;  to  them  whose  fortune  runs  back  and  whose 
spirits  mutiny — unto  such  death  is  a  redeemer  and  the 
grave  a  place  for  retiredness  and  rest." 


374 


INDEX 


d'Abrant^s,  duchesse  (Mme  Junot), 
197,211,214,  222,285. 

Adelaide,  Mme  de  France,  lo-ii, 
14-23,  38,  61,  81,  90,  124,  183. 

d'Agoult,  M.,  78. 

Aissd,  Mile,  282. 

Albanesi,  M.,  14. 

Alberoni,  Giulio,  3. 

Alexander  i,  Emperor  of  Russia, 
336-337,  342. 

d'Alvimare,  Martin  Pierre,  278. 

Anacharsis,  45. 

d'Aneucourt,  M.,  273. 

d'Angouleme,  duchesse  (Madame 
Royale),  53-54,  64-65,  92-93, 
128,  165,  175,  342,  349,  351, 
355-356. 

Anquetil,  Paul,  289. 

d'Arenberg,  Prosper-Louis,  prince, 

312-313- 
d'Artois,  Charles  Philippe,  comte, 
37,  88-89,  92,  131,  179,  183. 

—  comtesse,  38,  51. 

Asturias,     prince     of    the.       See 

Ferdinand  vil  of  Spain. 
d'Aubier,  M.,  142. 
d'Audiffr^dy,  Alix,  292,  342. 

—  Josephine,  292,  342. 
Augereau,  Pierre  Frangois  Charles, 

205. 
Auguie',  M.,  47,  160,  172,  177,  188- 
190. 

—  Adelaide,    47,  94,    96-97,    128, 

130-131,    160,    171-174,    177- 
178,  188-190,  269. 


Auguie,  AdMe  (Mme  de  Broc),  190- 
192,  195,  206,  216,  218,  223, 
290,  293-294,  329-330,  360. 

—  Antoinette  (Mme  Gamot),  190- 

192,  275-276. 

—  Egld  (Mme  Ney),  190-192,  195, 

269-271,   281,   288,   290,    340, 

348-349,    351-353,    355,   359- 

361,  364-365. 
Augusta-Amelia  of  Bavariaj   285, 

366. 
d'Aumont,  Alexandre,  109. 

—  Jacques,  109. 

d'Aux,  Mme.     See  Eliza  de  Lally- 

Tollendal. 
d'Avout  de  Montjalin,  M.,  262. 

Baden,    Charles     Louis    Frederic, 

grand-duke  of,  285-287. 
Bailly,  Jean  Sylvain,  107. 
Balivi^re,  Abbe  de,  92. 
Baret,  Father,  lo-ii. 
Barnave,  Pierre  Joseph  Marie,  115, 

132-133,  140,  144,  149-150. 
Barras,  Paul  Francois  Jean  Nicolas, 

195. 
Barry,  Mme  du,  31. 
Barthe,  Nicolas  Thomas,  13. 
Barthelemy,  comte  E.  de,  note,  21. 
Baudeau,  Abbe,  38. 
Bavaria,   Maximilian-Joseph,   king 

of,  320. 
Beam,  Jeanne  Louise  de,  4-8. 
Beauhamais,   Claude  11    de,   244- 

246. 


375 


INDEX 


Beauharnais,  Emilie  de  (Mme  de  1 
Lavalette),  195,  198,  207-215,  | 
234,  269, 288-289,  344,  347-350,  I 
367.  I 

—  Eugene   de,   195-196,  198,  209,  1 

249,   261,   285,   320,  350,  363,  i 
365,  370,  372.  j 

—  Fanny  de,  207,  245.  | 

—  Hortense       de,      32-33,       45,  ' 

195-198,  203-209,  215-217, 
219,  222-226,  235,  240-243, 
246-247,  249,  253-255,  261, 
263-264,  266-267,  271-284, 
286,  289-296,  31 1-3 1 2,  320, 
327-336,  338-339,  341-342,346, 
354,  357-363,  365-367,  369- 
374. 

—  Stephanie  de,  244-247,  265,  272, 

281-282,  285-287,  291,  312. 

—  Claude,  comte  de,  325. 

—  marquis  de,  205. 

—  Mme  de,  207-208,  212-213. 

—  Josephine  de.     See  Josephine. 
Beaumetz,  M.  de,  95,  119-121. 
Beauvau,  marechale  de,  217,  306. 
B^guin,  M.,  273. 

Belle-Isle,  Charles   Louis  Augusta 

Fouquet,  mardchal  de,  8. 
Benezech,  Mile,  278. 
Bernard,  Abbe,  273,  357. 
Bernelle,  Mile,  325. 
Berthier,  Alexandre,  274,  325. 
Bertholet,  Pierre,  34. 
Berlin,  M.,  27. 

—  Rose,  40-41,  51,  247. 
Bertrand,  M.,  206. 

Blacas  d'Aulps,  Casimir,  comte  de, 

339. 
Blennerhassett,  Lady,  22. 
Boehmer,  M.,  66-77. 
Boigne,  Ad^le  de,  123,  341. 
Bonaparte,  Caroline  (Mme  Murat), 

196-198,   205,   207,   210,  220- 

222,   224-225,   229,    266,   276, 

281,  288,  292,  320. 


Bonaparte,     Christine     Charlotte, 
231-234,250,297-298,  321-323. 

—  Christine  Egypta,  231. 

—  Elisa    (Mme     Baciocchi),    231, 

358. 

—  Jerome,  198,  241,  261,  265. 

—  Joseph,  231,254. 

—  Louis,   207,  210,   253-255,   266, 

271,  289. 

—  Lucien,  230-231,  234,  241,  254, 

297-298,321-323. 

—  Madame   M^re,    197,   231,  268, 

322. 

—  Napoleon.     See  Napoleon. 

—  Pauline  (Mme  Leclerc),  196-197, 

205,  255. 
Bonesi,  M.,  224,  226. 
Bossuet,  Jacques  B^nigne,  200. 
Boubers,  General,  25^. 
Boufflers,  Stanislas,  Chevalier  de, 

290. 
Bouilld,  Francois  Claude,  marquis 

de,  116-117. 
Bourgogne,  Louis,  due  de,  200. 

—  Marie  Adelaide,  duchesse,  18- 

19,  22. 
Bourjolie,  Nelly,  265,  287. 
Bourrienne,  Louis  Antoine,  254. 
Bourset,  M.  de,  84-85. 
Boutikim,  M.,  340,  342. 
Boyer,    Christine     (Mme     Lucien 

Bonaparte),  230-232. 
Breteuil,       Louis      Auguste       le 

Tonnelier,  baron   de,   73,   75, 

78. 
Brienne,  Etienne  Charles  Lom^nie 

de,  30. 
Briffe,  comte  de  La,  325. 
Briges,  M.  de,  165. 
Brinvilliers,  marquise  de,  113. 
Broc,  marechal  de,  290,  293. 

—  Mme  de.     See  Ad^le  Augui^. 
Broglie,  marechal  de,  92. 
Broves,  vicomte  de,  170-17 1. 
Bruce,  Michael,  350,  367-368. 


376 


INDEX 


Cahir,  Lady,  264. 

Calonne,  Charles  Alexander  de, 
86-88,  138. 

Cameron,  Miss,  328. 

Campan,  M.. pere,  35-37,  39,  43-45, 
54-55,  66,  73,  93,  96,  98,  127, 
129-132,  135-136,  179-180. 

—  M.,  33,  36,  56-57,  92-93,  191. 

—  Mme,  birth   and   education,  2- 

14  ;  accepts  her  first  situation, 
15-28  ;  becomes  lectrice  to  the 
Dauphine,  32  ;  marries,  33  ; 
becomes  waiting  -  woman  to 
Marie  Antoinette,  36  ;  birth  of 
her  only  child,  79 ;  goes  to 
Mont  Dore,  129 ;  loses  her 
father-in-law,  135  ;  visits  the 
royal  prisoners  at  the 
Feuillants,  173 ;  is  arrested, 
189 ;  released  from  prison, 
190 ;  opens  a  seminary  at 
Montagne  de  Bon-Air,  192  ; 
receives  many  pupils,  194  ;  is 
appointed  directress  at  Ecouen, 
295  ;  loses  her  post,  338  ; 
death  of  her  son,  363  ;  her  own 
illness  and  death,  365-374. 

—  Henri,  79,  83-84,  128,  179,  i95, 

250-251,  261,  277,  284,  291, 
323-325,  329,  333,  336,  353- 
354,  356-357,  360,  362-365, 
367- 

Camus,  Armand  Gaston,  173. 

Canino,  prince  de.  See  Lucien 
Bonaparte. 

Caprera,  J.  B.,  Cardinal,  266. 

Carbonnel,  M.,  278. 

Cardon,  Mile,  5-8. 

Castellane,  Louise  de,  275-276. 

Castellux,  Mme  de,  124. 

Catherine,  Empress  of  Russia,  iii. 

Caulaincourt,  Auguste  Louis, 
marquis  de,  345. 

Cayla,  Mme  du.     See  Zoe  Talon. 

Celles,  Mme  de,  274. 


{  Chamant,  comte  de,  39. 
Chamilly,  M.  de,  178. 
Champcenetz,  chevalier  de,  39,  54. 
Charles  i,  king  of  England,  154- 

155- 
Chaumaurie,  M.,  290. 
Chaumont-Quitry,  comte  de,  312- 

313- 
Chenier,  M.,  373. 

—  Marie  Joseph,  117. 
Chimay,  princesse  de,  277. 
Choiseul,    Etienne    Francois,    due 

de,  9,  217. 
Civrac,  duchesse  de,  22. 
Clarke,  Henri  Jacques  Guillaume, 

244. 

—  Mile,  244,  273. 

"  Clotilde,  la  Belle,"  244. 
Cochelet,  Louise,  330,  356. 
Collot,  M.,  220. 
Collot  d'Herbois,  Jean  Marie,  116- 

117. 
Conde,    Louis   Joseph,   prince   de, 

92. 
Conti,     Louis     Frangois    Joseph, 

prince  de,  92. 
Coquille,  Mile,  208. 
Corvisart-Desmarets,  Jean  Nicolas, 

275-276. 
Courtin,  Elisa  de,  292. 
Craufurd,  Quentin,  140. 
Cromwell,  Oliver,  121. 

Damiens,  Robert  Frangois,  11-13. 
Daru,  Pierre  Antoine  Noel  Bruno, 

comte,  284,  344. 
Davout,   Louis    Nicolas,   256-262, 

312,  344,  363. 

—  Louis  Napoleon,  262. 

—  Paul,  262. 

--  Mme,  206,  255-262. 
Decr^s,  Denis,  344. 
Decret,  M.,  149. 
Dejean,  M.,  344. 
Delavigne,  Casimir,  292. 


377 


INDEX 


Delille,  Jacques,  290-291. 
Desmoulins,  Camille,  106. 
Diet,  M.,  168-169. 
Dubreuil,  Dr.,  227-229. 
DucMtel,  Mme,  281. 
Duclos,  Charles  Pinot,  14. 
Ducrest,  Georgette,  255. 
Dumouriez,  Charles  Francois,  145- 

146. 
Duphot,  Leonard,  244. 
Dupin,  Andr^  Marie  Jean  Jacques, 

351- 
Dupont      de      Nemours,      Pierre 

Samuel,  117. 
Dupuis,  C^l^nie,  266. 
Durfort,  marquise  de,  22. 
Duroc,  Michel,  241-243,  277,  293. 

Edge  worth,  Maria,  238. 
Elisabeth,  Mme  de  France,  18,  22. 

—  Mme,   102,   no,   133,   159-160, 

163-168. 
Esterhazy,  comte,  54. 
d'Exelmans,  Isidore,  comte,  344. 

Favras,    Thomas    Mahi,    marquis 
de,  107-108. 

—  Mme  de,  107-108. 

Fdnelon,  Francois  de  Salignac  de 

Lamothe,  199-202. 
Ferdinand     ill,     grand-duke     of 

Tuscany   and    grand-duke   of 

Wiirzburg,  321-322. 

—  VII,  king  of  Spain,  and  prince  of 

theAsturias,  297,  321-322. 
Ferrand,  Antoine  Francois  Claude, 

347. 
Fesch,  Joseph,  198,  300. 
Fleischmann,  Hector,  278. 
Fleury,  Andrd  Hercule  de,  19. 

—  comte  de,  39. 
Fodoas-Barbazan,    F^licitd    (Mme 

Savary),  253,  261,  288,  344. 
Fontaine,  Pierre  Francois  Leonard, 
326. 


Forbin,  M.,  278. 

Fouch^,  Joseph,  228-229. 

Fouquet,  Nicolas,  8. 

Francis  11,  Emperor  of  Germany, 

144. 
Francois  II,  king  of  France,  295. 
Friant,  Louis,  258. 

Gamin,  Francois,  157-158. 
Gamot,  Charles,  275,  353. 

—  Mme.     See  Antoinette  Augui^. 
Gasson,  Mme,  322. 

Gaudin,  Michel  Charles,  344. 

Gauthier,  M.,  137. 

Genest,  Edm^  Jacques,  3-9. 

—  Edmond   Charles,   2,    96,    137- 

139,  143,  147,  186-187. 

—  M.p^re,  3-15. 
Genevieve,  373. 

Genlis,  Mme  de,  2,  274,  294. 

Gentil,  M.,  154. 

Georgel,  Abb^,  78. 

Georges,  M.,  252. 

Gerard,  Etienne  Maurice,  274. 

Girardin,  Stanislas   Xavier,  comte 

de,  298. 
Goldoni,  Carlo,  14. 
Golowkine,  Fddor,  comte,  276. 
Gorsas,  M.,  125-126. 
Gougenot,  M.,  180-185. 
Gouges,  Olympe  de,  185. 
Grasset,  M.,  204,  226. 
Gueffre,  Mme,  216. 
Guerdin,  Captain,  324. 
Guistal,  princesse  de,  28. 
Gustavus  III,  king  of  Sweden,  62- 

63. 

d'Haga,  comte.     See  Gustavus  ill, 

king  of  Sweden. 
Hamel,  Ernest,  95,  97,  161,  187. 
Hamelin,  Mme,  289. 
Hardivilliers,  Mile,  35. 
Hauser,  Kaspar,  287. 
Hay,  Hortense  Eugenie,  361-362. 


378 


INDEX 


Hay,  Mr.,  361. 
Heine,  Heinrich,  300. 
d'Henin,  princesse,  217. 
Henri  11,  king  of  France,  295. 
Henriette,  Mme  de  France,  18. 
d'Hervilly,    Louis   Charles,  comte, 

165. 
Heym^s,  M.,  371-372. 
I'Hopital,  Mme  de,  227-229. 
Hortode,  Mile,  326. 
Houssaye,  Henri,  343. 
Hue,  Frangois,  178. 
Hulot,  Mme,  248-249,  267-268. 

—  Eugenie.     See  Mme  Moreau. 

d'Inisdal,  comte,  109-110. 
Isabey,  Jean  Baptiste,  204,  215, 270- 
271,  292. 

—  Miles,  250,  292. 

Jadin,  Hyacinthe,  226. 

Jerome,  M.,  352. 

Joseph  II,  Emperor  of  Germany, 
41. 

Josephine,  Empress  of  the  French, 
43,  195-199,  205-208,  212,  223, 
225-227,  232-234,  241-242, 
245-247,  253,  258,  261,  267- 
269,  273-274,  276,  279,  281, 
286,  292,  312-313,  327-328, 
335-336. 

Junot,  Mme.  See  duchesse 
d'Abrant^s. 

Kastner,  Mile,  360-361. 
Kosowska,  Christine,  292. 

La  Bedoy^re,  Charles  Huchet, 
comte  de,  347,  349,  352. 

—  Mme  de,  349. 

Lacdp^de,  Etienne  de  la  Ville, 
comte  de,  299,  310,  314-316, 
318-319,  332,  334-336. 

La  Chapelle,  M.  de,  147-148,  157. 

Lacroix,  Mme,  366. 


Lafayette,  Marie  Joseph  Paul, 
marquis  de,  87,  96-97,  107, 
115,  119. 

La  Fert^,  M.  de,  160-161. 

La  Harpe,  Francois  de,  60. 

Lally-Tollendal,  Eliza  de,  244,  290. 

—  Gerard,  marquis   de,  217,  244, 

290,  340,  354,  363- 

—  Thomas  Arthur,  244. 
Lamartine,  Alphonse  Marie  Louis 

de,  22. 
Lamballe,  Marie  Th^r^se  de,  47, 

104,  121,  132,  146,  178. 
Lambesc,     Charles     Eugene     de 

Lorraine,  prince  de,  92. 
Lameth,  Alexandre  de,   iii,   133, 

144,  183. 
Lamotte-Valois,   Mme    de,   76-79, 

loi,  140. 
Langle,  Francois  Marie,  204. 
Lannes,  Jean,  205. 
Laporte,  Arnaud  de,  136,  143. 
La  Roche-Aymon,  Mme  de,  175. 
La         Rochefoucauld  -  Liancourt, 

Francois  Alexandre  Frederic, 

due  de,  88. 
La  Tour-du-Pin  Gouvemet,  M.  de, 

329. 
Laval,  due  de,  359. 

—  Mme,  319-320. 

Lavalette,  Marie  Joseph  Chamans 
de,  210-214,  234,  344-345» 
347-351,367- 

—  Mme     de.       See     Emilie     de 

Beauharnais. 

—  Josephine  de,  288-289. 
Leblond,  Anna,  244. 
Lebrun,  Charles  Francois,  344. 
Leclerc,  Victor    Emmanuel,    205, 

255-257. 

—  Louise      Aimde     Julie     (Mme 

Davout),    206,    255-262,    269, 

344. 
Lefebvre  -  Desnouettes,      Charles, 
comte  de,  198. 


379 


INDEX 


Leftvre,  Francois  Joseph,  344. 

L^ger,  M.,  205. 

Lenormand,  Mme,  312. 

Leonard,  M.,  40-41,  58,  102-105. 

Leopold  II,  Emperor  of  Germany, 
144. 

Leroy,  M.,  288. 

Lezay-Mamdsia,  M.  de,  246. 

—  Mile  de,  245. 

Lolide,  Frederic,  286. 

Lolive,  Miles,  221. 

Louis  XV,  king  of  France,  2,  9-13, 
16-19,  22,  26-29,  34-35- 

Louis  XVI,  30-31,  38,  58-62,  66- 
68,  75-81,  86-89,  94-98,  102, 
108-112,  122-123,  i3o>  133- 
137,  140,  I42-I43»  146-150, 
152-163,    171,    174,    178-186, 

i99»  339. 
Louis-Joseph,  first  Dauphin,  58-62, 

65,  82-85. 
Louis  XVII,  second  Dauphin,  121- 

122,  128,  133,   152,   165,  167- 

168,  175-176,  187,  198-199. 
Louis   XVIII  (Monsieur,  comte  de 

Provence)  2,  37,  79,  107,  no, 

183,    275,   340,   342,   346-347, 

349,  363. 
Louis,  Abbd,  132. 
Louise,  Mme  de  France,  17,   19, 

25,  27-29,  64,  80. 
Lozeau,  Mme,  346. 
Lully,  Jean  Baptiste,  14. 
Luynes,    duchesse    de,    175-176, 

217. 

McDermott,  Father,  195. 
Macdonald,       Etienne       Jacques 

Joseph  Alexandre,  363. 
Mackau,  Antoinette  de,  265,  287. 
Maigne,  Dr.,   355,   363,   364,  370, 

373. 
Maill^  de  Brdz^,  Mile  de,  323. 
Malesherbes,  Lamoignon  de,  183, 

185-186. 


Malseigne,  M.,  116. 
Mandat,  M.,  164-165,  172. 
Manherbes,    Clementine   de,  234- 

235- 
Marat,  Jean  Paul,  31,  126. 
Marbois,  Sophie,  244,  344. 
Marchand,  M.,  125. 
Maret,  Hugues  Bernard,  344. 
—  Mme,  288. 

Marie-Antoinette,  2,  29-32,  34-35, 
57-77,  79-ii5>  117-122,  127- 
169,  171-179,  181,  183-184, 
187-189,  192,  194,  207-208, 
217,  277,  284,  339-340,  348, 
355-356,  362-363. 
Marie  Caroline,  queen  of  Naples, 

322-323. 
Marie  Christine,  archduchess,  150. 
j  Marie  Leczinska,  15,  31,  35. 
;  Marie    Louise,    Empress     of    the 
I  French,  323,  325-327. 

Maria  Theresa,  31-32,  38,  75,  103. 
Marie-Ther^se-Fdlicite  of  France, 
I  18. 

j  Marmont,  Auguste  Frederic  Louis 

Viesse  de,  349. 
I  Marmontel,  Jean  Frangois,  14. 
j  Marsilly,  M.  de,  151. 
i  Marx,  Colonel,  278-279. 
':  Masson,  Frederic,  192. 
Maurepas,  Jean   Frederic  Ph^lip- 

peaux,  comte  de,  86. 
Maury,  Abbe,  125. 
Mejan,  Jean,  331. 
Menara,  Hervas  de.  Mile,  265. 
Menou,  Jean  Francois,  125. 
Mercy  -  Argenteau,        Florimond, 

comte  de,  38. 
Mesmer,  Franz  Anton,  55-58. 
Mirabeau,  Honore  Gabriel  Riquetti 

de,  159,  183. 
Misery,  Mme  de,  39. 
Molleville,       Bertrand       Antoine 
marquis  de,  151. 
I  Momet,  Mile,  325. 


380 


INDEX 


Monroe,  James,  265-266,  281,  340, 
362. 

—  Eliza,    265-266,    274,    280-281, 

340,  361-362. 
Montebello,  Mme  de,  325. 
Monthiers,  Mme   de.     See  Maille 

de  Breze. 
Montmorency,  Anne  de,  295,  297, 

337- 

—  Mme  de,  325. 

Montmorin  de  Saint-Herem, 
Armand  de,  124,  1 34-1 35 j  i43) 
183. 

Moreau,  Victor,  205,  248-249. 

—  Mme,  248-249,  267-268. 
Morel,  M.,  173. 

Morris,  Mr.,  362. 

Mortier,  M.,  325. 

Mozin,  M.,  206. 

Mun,  comte  de,  241-242. 

Murat,  Joachim,  205,  220-222,  266. 

—  Mme.     See  Caroline  Bonaparte. 

Napoleon  Bonaparte,  43,  145,  195, 
199,  205-206,  209-213,  216- 
223,  227-231,  241-243,  245- 
249,  252,  254-257,  259-260, 
266-270,  275-277,  279-289, 
291-300,  303-305,  311-327, 
329,  331-333,  335-336,  339, 
341-348,  352,  370. 

Napoleon  Louis,  271-272,  274, 
290,  327-328,  361,  372. 

Napoleon  in,  203,  327. 

Narbonne,  Louis  de,  22-23,  '24, 
126. 

—  Mme  de,  22-23,  124. 
Nassau-Siegen,     Carl      Heinrich, 

prince  von,  282,  324,  340. 
Nattier,  Jean  Marie,  24. 
Naundorff,  199. 
Necker,  Jacques,  107. 
Ndrac,  M.  de,  197. 
Neuville,  Jean    Guillaume,   Hyde 

de,  362. 


Ney,   Michel,   269-271,  288,   346- 

353,  359,  365. 

—  Mme.     See  Egle  Auguie. 
Nicolai,  Christian,  comte  de,  325, 

370. 

—  comtesse  de,  232,  370. 
Noailles,  Alfred  de,  197. 

—  Leontine  de,  197. 

—  Mme  de,  31,  39-40. 

Nord,  comte   du.     See  Paul   i   of 

Russia. 
Noue,  M.  de,  11 5- 116. 

Orange,   prince    of.     See  William 

Frederick. 
d'Orleans      (Louis      Philippe      il, 

Philippe  Egalite)  due,  91. 

—  duchesse,  49. 

Pagerie,  Stephanie  Tascher  de  La, 

247,  282,  312-313- 
Pannelier,  Mme,  194-195,  364-365, 

371- 
Piris-Duverney,  Pierre,  35. 
Paris,  Mile,  9-1 1. 
Pasquier,  Etienne,  349. 
Paterson,  Miss,  265. 
Paul  I,  Emperor  of  Russia  (comte 

du  Nord),  62. 
Pauligni,  Mme,  215. 
Petion,  Jerome,  133,  161-162,  165, 

169,  177-178. 
Petrarch,  359. 
Philip,  duke  of  Parma,  Infante  of 

Spain,  18. 
Pholo6,   Mile,  282-283,   290,  324- 

325,  340,  342. 
Pierre,  Abbe  de,  351-353- 
Pitt,  William,  140-141. 
Pius  VII,  Pope,  297. 
Plantade,  M.,  278. 
Plato,  202. 
Plutarch,  359. 
Poix,  Antoine  Claude  Dominique, 

prince  de,  54,  118-119. 


381 


INDEX 


Poix,  princesse  de,  217. 
Polignac,  comtesse  Diane  de,  41, 
92. 

—  due  de,  92. 

—  duchesse  de,  41,  84,  89-90,  92- 

93- 
Pourtal^s,  Fritz,  comte  de,  274. 
Provence,   comte    de.     See    Louis 

XVIII. 

—  comtesse  de,  38,  49,  no. 
Prudhomme,  Louis,  137. 

Racine,  Jean,  13,  328. 
Rapp,  Jean,  312,  345-346. 
Ravaillac,  Francois,  13. 
Raymond,  Pauline,  197. 
Rayneval,  Jean  Gerard  de,  138. 
Recamier,  Juliette,  215. 
Regnault  de  Saint-Jean  d'Angdly, 
344. 

—  Mme  de,  344. 

Richelieu,  Armand  Emmanuel  du 

Plessis,  due  de,  349,  362. 
Robespierre,  Maximilien,  11 5-1 16, 

179-180,  190,  192. 
Rochechouart,  comte  de,  351. 
Rochon  de  Chabannes,  13. 
Rcederer,  Paul  Louis,   comte   de, 

162,  166-167. 
Rohan,  Louis  Ren^,  prince  de,  71- 

72,  74-79. 

Chabot,  due  de,  306. 

Mile  de,  306-307. 

Rolier,  Lavinie,  198. 

Rousseau,  Jean  Jacques,  14,  238. 

—  M.,  163,  167. 

—  Mme,  194,  358. 

—  Agathe,  274,  280. 

Sacken,   Fabian  von    der    Osten, 

prince,  335,  327. 
Saint-Alphonse,  Mme  Wathier  de. 

See  Antoinette  de  Mackau. 
Saint-Elme,  Bourboulon  de,  280. 

—  Mme  de.    See  Agathe  Rousseau. 


Saint-Florentin,  Louis  Phelypeaux, 

comte  de,  10- 11. 
Saint- Huruge,  marquis  de,  90,  91. 
Saint- Lambert,  Francois,  marquis 

de,  263. 
Saint-Simon,    Louis    de   Rouvroy, 

due  de,  104. 
Saint-Souplet,  M.  de,  166. 
Salvert,  M.,  165. 
Santerre,  Claude,  107-108. 
Sauce,  M.,  132. 
Savary,  Rene,  261,  324,  344. 
Scepeaux,  comte  de,  224. 
Sdgur,  Louis   Philippe,  comte  de, 

138,  344. 
Serre,  Mile  de  La,  12-13. 
Simon,  Antoine,  199. 
Sophie,   Mme   de   France,    17-19 

24-25,  27,  60. 
Soulavie,  Jean  Louis  Giraud,  157. 
Stanislas,  king  of  Poland,  115. 
Stendhal,  259. 
Stryienski,  Casimir,  24. 
Sutherland,  Duchess  of,  176. 

Talleyrand  -  Pdrigord,         Charles 
Maurice  de,  283,  286,  324-325. 
Talon,  M.,  224,  227-228. 

—  Mme,  229. 

—  Zo€  (Mme  du  Cayla),  224,  227, 

229. 
Talouet,  Mme,  325. 
Tarente,  princesse  de,  169,  175. 
Thibaudeau,  Antoine,  344. 
Thibaut,  Mme,  173. 
Thiebault,  General,  278. 
Thienon,  M.,  205. 
Thierry,  M.,  173. 
Thomas,  Antoine  Leonard,  13. 
Thompson,  Mr.,  263. 
Tippoo  Sahib,  340. 
Tourzel,    Mme    de,    93,    178,   217, 

355-356. 

—  Pauline  de,  178. 
Turquan,  Joseph,  209. 


3B2 


INDEX 


Valadon,  M.,  177-178. 

Valence,  Miles  de,  274. 

Vatel,  63. 

Vaucher,  Mile,  264. 

Vaudreuil,  M.  de,  41. 

Vendome,   Louis  Joseph,  due  de, 

3- 
Vergennes,  Charles  Gravier,  comte 

de,  86,  138. 
Vergniaud,  Pierre  Victurnien,  168. 
Verigni,  M.  de,  234-235. 
Vermond,  Abbe  de,  30-31,  35-37, 

41-42,  75,  92-94. 
Vicq  d'Azyr,  Felix,  11 2- 113,  129. 
Victoire,  Mme  de  France,   lo-ii, 

14-20,  123-126,  183. 


Victor,  General  (Victor  Perrin),  265. 

—  Victorine,  265,  273. 
Villeurnoy,  M.  de,  107. 
Voisin,  Dr.,  369-371. 

—  Mme,    187,   355,  357-359,   369, 

371,  373-374. 
Vrilli^re,  due  de,  lo-ii. 

Wellington,  Duke  of,  351. 
William  the  Conqueror,  358. 
William      Frederick,     prince      of 

Orange,  218-219. 
Wordsworth,  William,  i. 
Wiirzburg,     grandduke     of.      See 

Ferdinand  ill,  grand-duke   of 

Tuscany. 


383 


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